A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus (Old)
by Neolyph
Summary: After six years of abuse with the Dursleys, Harry Potter is sent to the Matou Estate by Zelretch. There, he does his best to protect Sakura growing up and acts as Master of Rider in the Fifth Grail War. Pairing: HarryxHarem Rated M for abuse, rape, sexual content, and gore (Undergoing Rewrites. See the new story)
1. Chapter 1: Prologue and Summoning

**Hey Everyone, Neolyph here to bring you my first foray into fanfiction. This story is based off a challenge posted on Arawn D Draven's profile. Go check it out there and read his stuff. Also, as this is my first attempt at fanfiction, I will likely be editing some things here and there as I realize how stupid certain elements of this story are. As always, read, review, moo. I legitimately need reviews so I know what I'm fucking up story-wise. I have taken certain liberties with Fate/stay canon, but only to better mesh the two magical systems and universes a little better.**

(I do not own Harry Potter or Fate/Stay Night)

Chapter 1: Prologue

* * *

Six year old Harry Potter was unfamiliar with the concepts of love and family. Sure, he knew about them in an academic sense, as he often hid from Dudley in the local library, and had taken up the habit of reading in his spare time, but he had never actually experienced them in his life. The only form of physical contact he had with his aunt and uncle came in the form of belts, burns, beatings, and worse. The last time he had slipped and spilled some tea on his aunt's dress while pouring it for her, she had held his head underwater in the bathtub until he passed out, and then for about another minute.

The only place Harry could find any modicum of safety and comfort was the local library, where the librarian had some suspicion as to the state of his family life and taken pity on him, allowing him to hide out there from his cousin and friend, whilst reading to his heart's content.

It was in this particular library that young Harry met the particular individual that would change his life forever. Harry was browsing the shelves he could, those at eye-level for a six year old, when he saw a man he had never seen in the library before round the corner. The man was tall, with graying hair, a strong jawline, a bushy beard, and strangest of all, red eyes that bore the unmistakable spark of gleeful madness in them. The man stopped and observed Harry in a way that made Harry's ingrained suspicion twitch. Harry's suspicion was less the suspicion of one suspecting themselves about to be the victim of a child predator and more the suspicion of one suspecting themselves about to be the victim of a practical joke. Harry and the stranger observed each other for a few moments before the man looked over at one of the nearby tables motioned towards it and sat down in one of the accompanying chairs. Harry, against his better judgement, sat down opposite to him.

* * *

Never let it be said that Kischur Zelretch von Schweinorg, master of the Second True Magic, the Kaleidoscope, never took an interest in the affairs of his home dimension. One of the things he often observed in other dimensions was the Holy Grail War, the fifth to be precise. He looked at the commonalities between all of them and compared them to his home dimension. The Wizard Marshall observed that his reality's war would occur five or so years before it typically did, even with the accelerated start. He observed that in all of the Grail Wars that didn't end catastrophically, there was a common factor: a boy by the name of Shirou Emiya. Zelretch's world did not possess such an individual.

Emiya's main purpose was in befriending one Sakura Matou and anchoring her enough to prevent the release of Angra Mainyu, which would destroy the world. Zelretch could directly intervene, as with his knowledge and power he could stop the evil god, but that wasn't really his style. Instead, he began searching through alternate realities and examining any individual that caught his eye to see if they could serve as a suitable alternative to Shirou Emiya.

It was during the course of this search that he came across the young Harry Potter, a boy whose hellish life was rivaled only by that of young Sakura Matou. Further investigation showed that the boy was not only in possession of tremendous power, but also of staggeringly strong character, avoiding being broken even in the absolute hell his relatives put him through on a daily basis. Upon examining the boy's background, the Second Magician learned that the boy was a heroic figure of the local magic community. Deciding that this boy would do nicely for his required purposes, Zelretch approached the boy in the library he frequented.

* * *

"Can I help you sir?" the boy asked, somewhat nervous.

"I do hope so young man, as I came quite a distance to make you this offer."

"And, what sir, is this offer exactly?" Harry asked, even more unnerved.

"How would you like to be free of your relatives, become a hero, and receive a family that loves you?"

"What would I have to do exactly?"

"I will not lie to you, child, it will not be a pleasant experience. I am what you might call a dimension hopper, a term you have likely picked up from those books you read. I need a boy to take back to my home reality, to fulfill a role that will determine the fate of the world. In order to do this, you will be put through pain and torment surpassing even that which your current relatives put you through. At the end of it though, you will receive power, love, and family. You will become a magus in a family that will torture you for years on end, but you will get a loving fami-

"-I accept," Harry unhesitating interjected, without any need for further offers or explanations

"Very well then, prepare yourself."

And with that, Harry Potter's life was forever changed, for better or worse.

* * *

Zelretch took young Harry back to his rooms in the Clock Tower, in his home dimension, and began examining him to see what advantages he could give the young wizard. He examined the boy's magical core to see if he could convert it for magecraft. The average wizarding core from his observations held tremendous amounts of energy, but the nature of it prevented them from utilizing it in any way aside from narrowly channeling it through sticks, drastically limiting the power. Put this in perspective with Harry's immense magical reserves, even for a wizard, and you had ludicrous amounts of power just waiting for a bigger channel to move through, which magical circuits provided.

What Zelretch did was put Harry under, and install circuits taken from another dimension into the boy, specially modified to draw from his magical core. When all was said and done, Harry had two hundred and sixty-seven high-quality magical circuits, with another fifty coming from Zelretch's specially made magical crest so that the boy would eventually be able to utilize the Kaleidoscope to return home.

With Harry recovering from the immense surgery, the Wizard Marshall looked for a good place to drop the boy off where the Matous would find him. He settled for Fuyuki City, which was in the midst of the Fourth Grail War, and about to be a burning hellhole.

* * *

"Why doesn't someone help them?" was Harry's first reaction upon awakening in the middle of a raging inferno. Years of living with the Dursleys had completely desensitized Harry to pain and suffering, to himself at least. Sure, it was really hot, but compared to the time he had burned breakfast and his uncle has held his arms over a lit burner until the skin blackened, it wasn't all that bad.

The only thing bothering Harry was the other people there, screaming, dying, suffering. Harry had gone through too much pain in his six years to wish it on anyone that he didn't feel deserved it, and these were innocent people.

Walking through the inferno, Harry watched all manner of suffering. He saw mother clutch their children as houses collapsed on them, he saw a teenager trying to pull his younger brother out from some burning framework only to be burned in a flash as a gas main ignited, and he saw a young child, desperately clutching his mothers blackened and charred hand as the life faded from her eyes. The scenes he saw burned themselves into Harry's mind as he dragged himself through the fires, unable to help them himself.

The last thing Harry saw was a middle-aged man in a suit and trench coat, dragging himself along in much the same way Harry was, his grey eyes desperately searching for something, or someone. Harry was about to call out to this individual when he heard a creaking sound and looked up to see the house he was in collapse on him.

* * *

Zouken Matou walked through the ashes of Fuyuki City, searching for the fragments of the grail shattered by that bastard Kiritsugu Emiya. Approaching the center of the city, he felt a heavy concentration of prana. Not believing his luck at having found the grail this easily, he went towards the collapsed building it was emanating from.

Utilizing magecraft to clear away some of the larger beams, Zouken found not the grail he was looking for, but an emaciated young boy. The boy was in a sorry state. He looked like a scarecrow, wearing clothes that hung on his ragged frame, absolutely no muscle or fat on him, badly scarred in any area that wasn't immediately noticeable, and more recently heavily burnt from the recent blaze. What astounded Zouken the most was the sheer degree of prana coming off of the boy. The prana came off the boy in waves, each hitting the elderly Matou like a physical blow.

A quick check revealed that the boy had a whopping three hundred and seventeen top quality magical circuits, outclassing even some dead apostles. The boy was likely the result of some experiment of a hermetical magus, or even one of the more active dead apostle ancestor. Regardless of his origins, Zouken knew that he had to take this boy and use him. He had originally intended to use the Tohsaka girl he had taken in recently, but he decided that she was better used as a backup support while this boy acted as the Matou master in the next war. His mind made up, he pulled the boy out of the ruined structure and set him aside to pick up later.

With the matter of the boy settled, he found and collected the remains of the shattered grail to implant in his prize and an unexpected bonus in hand, Zouken brought the boy and the grail out to his car, and brought them back to the Matou estate

* * *

Five year old Sakura Matou was unfamiliar with the concepts of love and family. Sure, she had some small experience with them before her bastard parents threw her over to this twisted old man to be tortured on a daily basis, but those experiences were tainted by the knowledge of what they had done to her. The only sensation she had felt in this pile of maggots her new grandfather had thrown her in was unspeakable, agonizing pain.

She had been screaming for so long that she had forgotten that she was even doing it. The worms had been eating her from the inside out and outside in for the last few days and even then the pain hadn't dulled. So she simply laid there, unable to do anything but scream, and just hoping for this hell to end. When she vaguely heard the door to the basement open, her hopes soared. Perhaps her new bastard of a grandfather was going to let her out! Her risen hopes were suddenly dashed when she saw the beaten, burned, scarred, and starved boy her grandfather was dragging after him. The boy looked her age, but with his emaciated state, he was likely a little older.

"Look beloved granddaughter, I've brought you some company," the bastard said, in that rasping voice of his. "You'll be even more delighted to learn that he'll be taking your place to an extent, which should make your life a little easier."

Without another word he woke the boy up with his familiars, having already implanted the grail-tainted worms in the boy, and unceremoniously kicked him into the pit next to Sakura.

The boy screamed and writhed in the pain of the worms burrowing into his flesh and attaching themselves to his insides.

Sakura watched as the boy in a herculean display of willpower began to block out the pain, regaining control of his body and ceasing his screaming.

The boy looking over at her still screaming for, put on a comforting smile, despite the immense amount of pain they were both undergoing, and took her hand in his.

"My name is Harry, and I am going to take care of you."

With that, Sakura felt the first happiness she had felt in a long time.

* * *

*3 Months Later*

Harry and Sakura sat in a room in the basement of the Matou manor. After three straight months of uninterrupted hell in the worm pit, Zouken had permitted the two magi to climb out. Sakura was barely holding on to her sanity, only her newfound dependency on Harry as the only good in her life helped her hold on. Consequentially, she had not let go of Harry's hand since he first took hold of hers in the pit. She had undergone noticeable change in the pit. Her once black hair was now purple, and her vibrant blue eyes had turned a dead purple.

Harry hadn't come out of the slimy hell either, as his own black hair now had a streak of purple in it, and his skin had turned slightly pale from the stress of blocking out the pain so he could better comfort Sakura. Normally, he would have been crippled by the worms, as they fed on bone marrow in the spine if they didn't get enough magical energy, but the sheer amount coming from him kept them sated, and even drew some off from Sakura.

The door opened and Zouken walked in. Despite his exhausted and pain-wracked state, six year old Harry's blood boiled at the sight of the man. Harry could take abuse and torture on himself, he had experienced it since the age of one after all, but to force him to sit next to and watch abuse and torture be inflicted on another was too much. It was only the knowledge Zouken had given them upon them leaving the pit that the crest worms could control them like puppets that kept Harry from trying to kill the man, six year old atrophied muscles be damned.

Zouken walked in and surveyed his new "apprentices."

"Good morning," he said, with a sarcastic sneer on his face.

Neither Harry nor Sakura replied, one due to anger, the other due to a near catatonic state.

"I am going to be instructing you both in the ways of magecraft, so that you may participate in the next grail war."

He received similar replies.

"So, young boy, tell me your name."

"Harry Potter, sir." Harry replied, realizing the danger of this man and falling back on his "don't get beat" techniques from his time with the Dursleys

"Harry, that's an English name. Tell me, what were you doing in Japan?"

"I don't remember anything before that fire, sir." Harry answered, knowing that this old man probably wouldn't accept, "I'm an inter-dimensional traveler apparently sent to infiltrate your family."

"Intriguing, my name is Zouken Matou, and as I stated earlier, I am a magus."

"What's a magus, sir?"

"A magus is a practitioner of magecraft, or magic. There is an entire secret society built around practicing the craft, and since you possess magic circuits, I am going to teach it to both of you."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't call me sir, since I am training you alongside my granddaughter to win the next grail war, you will call me Grandfather."

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Now, for some background on the grail wars. Many years ago, five magus families discovered the location of holy artifact capable of granting wishes, the Holy Grail. The five families all turned on each other, resulting in all five explorers being killed, the First Grail War. Later, the same five families rediscovered it, and planned to fight over it again, with similar results. In an attempt to regulate it when it happened again, the Clock Tower, the most powerful magical organization in the world, set up rules and regulations. The Third Grail War was a bloodbath due to all of the preparation put into it, but nobody won. The Fourth Grail War ended three months ago, when Kiritsugu Emiya tried to destroy the grail and caused that fire I found you in, Harry. We are preparing for the Fifth Grail War, which according to my sources is going to be in approximately ten years."

Harry neglected to correct him and say that it was actually going to be in five.

"Now, two important aspects of being a magus are your element and origin, which determine what types of magecraft you can do and what types you will be good at. Harry, we will start with you."

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Come over here and lie down on this table"

Harry complied, still stiff and weak from the pain of the worms, along with his burns from the fire and the pain of hunger. Sakura stood, still holding onto his hand, walked over next to him, and sat down next to him, not letting go for even a second.

Zouken pulled Harry's shirt up on his back and placed his cold, slimy hand on the small of Harry's back. Harry felt an uncomfortable sensation, as if the old man's disgusting hands were reaching through his back, up his spine, and grasping his brain. A normal person might have called the sensation extremely painful, but after three months of the crest worms and six years with the Dursleys, Harry was all but immune to pain. Finally, after what felt like and hour, the hand retracted from his body.

"Interesting, your origin seems to be [Creation], and you are an average magus, meaning you can use all five elements with equal proficiency."

"What are the five elements, Grandfather?"

"Though there are exceptions, the five standard elements are [Water], [Fire], [Air], [Earth], and [Aether]."

"What is Aether, Grandfather?"

"Aether is essentially magical energy in its natural state."

"Now it's your turn, Sakura."

Sakura didn't reply as she changed places with Harry, still holding his hand in a death-grip.

Harry had to resist the urge to punch the bastard as Zouken did the same technique on Sakura, and he saw her wince at the mental probing.

After quite some time, Zouken took his hands off.

"Granddaughter, your origin is [Devotion] and your element is [Light]. Any question?"

Neither child replied

"Good, you both have half an hour to make food in the kitchen, then return here for magecraft instruction."

Both children raced upstairs. Harry utilized his knowledge of cooking from the Dursleys to make food for himself and Sakura, only slightly hampered by the fact that she still had not let go of his hand.

After decimating half the kitchen in an attempt to recover from months of starvation, the two children returned to the basement withing the time limit, to find Zouken waiting for them.

"Marvelous, you returned on time. Now, for your first lesson..."

And with that, Harry Potter became a magus for the world to fear.

* * *

"Children, today you are starting school."

It had been seven days since the start of Harry and Sakura's magus training. Harry had been forced to sleep in the worm pit every night, Sakura had only been forced to stay for the first due to her less vital role. She had tried to return the second night so that she didn't have to be apart from him, but Harry vehemently refused, not wanting her to be further tortured simply to be with him. They compromised with Sakura dragging out a futon near the edge of the pit and sleeping there. She still held onto his hand every humanly possible second, and Harry complied since it comforted her. She still spoke almost never, and when she did, it was only to him. When anyone else was nearby, she retracted into an emotionless shell, a defense mechanism, Harry believed they were called.

"Harry, you will be enrolled in K-6, Sakura, you will be enrolled in K-5."

"Yes, Grandfather." Harry replied, Sakura just looked at them both and nodded slightly.

"Good, here are your backpacks. I will walk you both to school memorize the route because you will walk it alone afterwards."

The walk to school was quiet, with Harry still hating Zouken with the passion of a thousand suns undergoing simultaneous supernovas, Zouken not really caring, and Sakura silently following slightly behind Harry, holding his hand.

* * *

*6 Months Later*

It quickly became a well known fact at Fuyuki Elementary that you did not even look at Sakura Matou the wrong way unless you wanted to be reduced to a bloody pulp by Harry Potter. A group of boys had attempted to pick on and beat up the seemingly emotionless Sakura two months after school started while on the playground. They didn't get a single punch in as Harry came up behind them and brutally beat them down. Between his new diet, vigorous exercise regime, and Zouken's lessons in reinforcement, Harry had gotten pretty damn strong. As such, Sakura faced no problems after that, which further increased her devotion and infatuation with Harry.

Along with their mundane education, the two's magus training was also going along swimmingly, minus the torture via crest worms for Harry every night and once a week with Sakura, who still refused to sleep anywhere but either in the pit with Harry or next to it, despite his protestations. Sakura was working on a technique to manipulate shadows into a physical form. She had moderate success as her shadows could touch and harm spirits, but she couldn't get them to touch physical objects yet.

Harry with his origin of creation displayed amazing talent at mystic code crafting, projection, and alchemy. His projections were amazing, to the point where he passively structurally analyzed and mentally stored anything that could be called, "created," that is, taken from raw materials and reshaped into a new form. This applied to everything from electronics, weapons, mechanical items, furniture, books, paintings, et cetera. Once he had seen these things, he could almost perfectly duplicate them from the blueprints in his mind, even magical items. The largest thing he had been able to project so far was a pickup truck Zouken had instructed him to, which left him winded and with circuits flaring. Zouken told him that his projection would improve with time.

Harry also excelled at Mystic Code Crafting and Alchemy. Zouken had promised to get him reagents to craft codes and recover some books stolen from the Einzberns on the creation and use of Homunculi. The idea of creating artificial people and souls disturbed Harry at first, but he couldn't deny the effectiveness.

Hellish magical training aside, Harry's only real problem at home went by the name Shinji Matou. Shinji had to have been the single most irritating fourteen year old Harry had ever had the misfortune of meeting. He was like a weaker, more cowardly version of Dudley. Harry had to kick his ass on an almost daily basis to keep him from hitting and bullying Sakura, but the idiot just never learned. Fortunately, Harry's training in reinforcement meant that this wasn't much of a problem, despite his being older than Harry. Harry would feel bad for the kid, being the only one in the family that didn't possess magical circuits, if he wasn't aware of the sheer torture Matou magi underwent under Zouken.

* * *

Harry and Sakura's lives fell into a routine. Wake up, climb out of the worm pit, make breakfast with Sakura holding one of his hands, eat breakfast with Sakura holding one of his hands, beat up Shinji after he tried to bully Sakura because she didn't make breakfast for him, go to school with Sakura holding his hand, go to class, walk back with Sakura holding his hand, beat up Shinji again when he tried to bully Sakura due to Harry beating him up, magus training with Zouken, cook dinner with Sakura holding one of his hands, eat dinner with Sakura holding one of his hands, more magus training with Zouken, sleep in the worm pit, and repeat.

This went on for several years, as he and Sakura advanced their magecraft. Sakura eventually advanced her shadows to the point where she could shape them freely and kill solid beings with them, with a high degree of proficiency. Harry received permission from Zouken to turn one of the rooms in the basement into his workshop. There, he crafted numerous Mystic Codes, which he stored mentally for later projection, along with three combat-model homunculi. All identical triplets, two of them, Leanna and Joy, were close-combat models while Monica, the third and leader, was designed to use magecraft. As Harry was their creator and actually treated them like actual people instead of tools like the Einzberns did, they displayed an extreme degree of loyalty towards him. He had to repeatedly and explicitly order them not to kill Zouken when they learned of his and Sakura's "sleeping arrangements." Even then, Zouken didn't often remain in the same room with them for very long purely because he didn't want to have to go through the trouble of making a new body due to Monica incinerating him. Their sole defect, as all homunculi needed one, was that they were born without wombs, and were therefore incapable of reproduction. None of them really minded this, as they all stated that they wished solely to serve Harry, and therefore had no desire to have children. They were frighteningly effective in combat though, due to the sheer amount of care and prana Harry put into their production. If the three worked in tandem, they could together operate at the level of a mid-tier servant, which was a scary thought.

Another one of Harry's side projects he developed was a set of tattoos for each arm that permitted them to act as alchemic relays, enabling him to preform transmutation without the need for a transmutation circle. The actual process hurt tremendously, as he had to channel prana through the relays as they were being tattoo'd on, which cause his arms to undergo alchemic change as they were being tattoo'd. The end result was worth it though, as he could now preform alchemy in combat easily, and the tattoos were easy to hide with either long sleeves or concealment magecraft.

* * *

Sakura Matou loved Harry Potter, that was a fact she had known since he had first taken her hand and smiled at her in the pit.

You see, when one goes through the unspeakable hell Harry and Sakura went through, one of two things will happen. The first is that it will make you stronger, which was what happened with Harry. Sure, Harry hadn't come out of the experience unscathed, but he came out a hell of a lot better than most people would, and as a result he had been hardened and improved.

Sakura, on the other hand, had undergone the second possible result of her trials. She had been broken. She had been broken so badly that the only thing she was sure of anymore, the only light remaining in the world was of the boy who went into the pit so she didn't have to, the boy who had ignored his unbearable pain so that he could comfort her instead, the only person since her parents abandoned her to ever show any degree of affection to a worthless individual such as her. A girl who had been thrown out like the filthy trash she was didn't deserve to have someone like Harry look out for her, caring for her, but he did anyway, and that was why Sakura knew, as an absolute, immutable fact, that she would belong to Harry as long as she may live. The only way she knew how to repay him was with her complete and unwavering devotion. She knew that he had undergone the same treatment she had, but she only had to do it once a week. Harry slept with the worms every night, and chose to do it so that she wouldn't have to. Even more, he hadn't let it break him, unlike her weak, dirty self. How someone as dirty and worthless as her got such a kind and strong person as Harry to care for her, she didn't know, but she would repay him for it, any way she could.

* * *

It was three months before Harry's eleventh birthday that he knew something was wrong. Grandfather was late for his and Sakura's magecraft lessons. Normally, this would be a good thing, as magecraft instruction under Grandfather was very rarely pleasant, and even after over four years of living with him, Harry could barely stand to be in the same room as the slimy bastard. What he did to him and Sakura on a daily basis was unforgivable, so normally, his not being there would be good. The only problem was that Grandfather was never late for anything, _never._ What was even worse was that when the old man finally did come down, Harry saw, for the first time, the unmistakable look of panic in his eyes, though the old man did well to disguise it on the rest of his features as he walked calmly into the room.

"Is something wrong, Grandfather?" Harry asked.

"Just some... unforeseen events, my boy. Nothing to worry about, but we will have to accelerate our timetable somewhat."

"Our timetable for the grail war?"

"Yes, my boy, the grail war is not happening in a matter of years, but days."

Harry faked surprise on his face, as revealing the knowledge Zelretch imparted to him as to the actual time of the war would not go over well.

"Will I be summoning my servant soon then, Grandfather?"

"Yes my boy, you will. Today, in fact. Grab the necessary regents from your workshop, and prepare the summoning circle."

Harry departed, with hand-holding Sakura in tow, to gather the necessary supplies.

* * *

In a dark room in the Matou manor basement, Harry prepared a circle with painstaking detail. Sakura, along with his three homunculi, Leanna, Joy, and Monica, assisted him with it, as it was a rather intricate circle. Harry took the catalyst the old man had given him, an ancient Greek mirror that supposedly belonged to Perseus and as such would likely summon him, and placed it in the center of the circle. Harry told Sakura and the homunculi to stand back as he began channeling all the prana he could into the circle.

"For the elements silver and iron. For the foundation, stone, and the archduke of contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. Close the gates of the cardinal directions.

Come forth from the Crown, and follow the forked road to the Kingdom

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill

Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it. Set.

Heed my words.

My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me

I hereby swear...

That I shall be all that is good in the world

That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world

You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding... Guardian of the Scales!"

* * *

*Flashback*

 _After the three months in the work pit, Harry sat in Zouken's office, staring down the man who had just informed Harry of his intentions to use him as a pawn in the grail war._

 _"And why should I comply with you and act as nothing but a piece in your twisted chess game?"_

 _"You remember my young granddaughter correct? You seemed rather attached."_

 _"And what of it. What you are doing to her gives me even less motivation to assist you."_

 _"But, my dear boy, should you refuse to comply with me, who do you think will have to take your place with the worms every night from now till the grail war?"_

 _A look of shock and horror crossed Harry's face at the thought of the young girl he had sought to protect being forced to undergo that every night for years. Without someone to protect her and give her hope, she wouldn't last longer than a week without becoming and emotionless and battered husk of a person._

 _"If you want to protect her, my boy, you will have to play along and win me this upcoming war."_

 _Harry gritted his teeth_

 _"Fine, but after I win this war, you are done with me and Sakura. You take your damn worms out of us, and let us go."_

 _"Of course, my boy. I am a man of my word."_

 _Somehow, the shark-like grin accompanying those words did little to comfort young Harry._

* * *

Medusa sat in the throne of heroes partaking in her favorite pastime, reflection. Throughout her entire life, which she had spent caring for her younger sisters, all she had wanted was for someone to care for her. Her desire to care for her sisters had led to her becoming a monster, and she had sworn that she would never let someone go down that path again. Imagine her surprise when she felt the tug of an appropriate catalyst calling her towards a summoning in the Holy Grail War. She felt through the link to her summoner to see if she could get a feel for whether she wanted to be summoned by them. What she felt nearly shattered her heart: a broken and beaten boy, who had never been showed love in his entire life, and was now hosting tainted worms, feeding on his body, a boy who dedicated himself to the protection of a girl smaller and younger than himself, a boy who went through unimaginable pain and horrors every night so this young girl he knew didn't have to. She saw a boy who was going down the same road she was, and resolved to change it. She cared nothing for the grail, but she would fulfill the role she never had and this boy needed, a protector for the protector.

* * *

A flash of light and smoke invaded the small room with the summoning circle. Harry peered through it to see one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen kneeling in the center. She had purple hair, slightly lighter than Sakura's, she wore a strange outfit, black with purple lines on the edges, and what looked like a dog collar around her throat. Strangest of all though, were the strange symbol inscribed on her forehead, like a "2" with a line through the end, and purple blindfold going across her eyes. Harry had been so focused on examining this unearthly beauty that he nearly jumped when she looked up to gaze on him, despite the blindfold.

"Servant Rider answers your summons. I ask of you, are you my master?"

And with that, Harry knew that his part in the Fifth Grail War had begun.


	2. Chapter 2: Servants and Shinji

**Hello again everyone, this is Neolyph, bringing you another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. Thank you all so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. It really means a lot to me. As I had little else to do, I started this only a couple hours after I published the first chapter, so I may not have read all of the reviews pointing out my inevitable mistakes in the first chapter. I will answer some of the reviews currently up though.**

 **Things I edited in chapter 1**

 **-Some grammar and spelling mistakes I noticed  
-Made Shinji older, so he's 17 when the war starts. Needed him to be a few years older for what I had in mind for him.  
-Changed Harry's element from "unaligned" to "average" This is due to Harry having a converted wizard core, and therefore no elements locked out**

 **It should be noted that Caster is slightly OOC in this fic. I read her backstory, and maybe it's because I'm a huge fan of Wicked, but all I could see was a huge similarity to Elphaba. Both were originally good, innocent people before they were forced to take actions that the world saw as bad, and became the monsters everyone thought they were. As such, I tweaked her personality a little bit.**

 **One common question is what happened to Shirou. Perhaps I'll have to go back and re-edit it later due to it not being clear, but the reason Zelretch takes Harry to the Matous is because the universe he is currently in isn't the LN or Anime version, it's an AU where Shirou doesn't exist and he needs someone to keep Sakura from going apeshit and eating the world via Angra Mainyu, so he figured a beaten and broken chosen one would do the trick.**

 **Jayfeather912: Yes, Rin will be a master in the war. I have not yet decided on Sakura. Harry, Sakura, Rider, Caster, and whoever else is with them will be going to Hogwarts after the end of the grail war. Thank you for the support**

 **Akabara Strauss: Kiritsugu is not dead, but he is still deathly ill. Shirou doesn't exist.**

 **Arawn D. Draven: Thanks man, glad to know I lived up to the challenge**

 **the lone soul: I know right? I never understand why anyone befriends Shinji. Like, everyone just ignores that fact that he raped Sakura throughout her entire childhood, tried to melt an entire school full of children into prana, regularly commanded Rider to eat people, and was just an all around douchebag to everyone. I hope that in this fic I can properly portray his douchebaggerey in all its glory.**

 **Jashava: Thanks for pointing that out. It was what I originally meant, I just couldn't remember the term. And Harry does possess a reality marble, just not the same one as Shirou, so it operates slightly differently. Harry is distorted due to his desire to protect whilst Shirou is distorted due to his desire to save. The difference will become clearer later on**

 **As always, read, review, moo, and enjoy the story!**

Chapter 2: Servants and Shinji

* * *

Harry felt three command seals burn themselves into his flesh. He ignored the pain, as it wasn't that bad and he had more important matters to focus on, like the beautiful servant kneeling before him.

"Servant Rider answers your summons. I ask of you, are you my master?"

"I am, Servant Rider. Are you prepared to fight in the grail war?" Harry asked, trying not to let any of the nervousness he felt enter his voice.

"I am prepared Master. I await your orders." Rider answered, with her seductive, yet dangerous voice.

"Good," Harry said, slightly more confident, "I am Harry Potter, operating master for the Matou family, and this is Sakura Matou, she will be assisting us in the war. The other three are Leanna, Joy, and Monica. They are my homunculi servants, and will also be assisting us in this war."

Rider stared at the four, as if assessing them as threats and finding them safe.

"Greetings." she said, curtly.

"The grail war will not start for another few days, as not all of the servants are summoned. When they are, we will begin hunting them. Until then, we have some time to familiarize ourselves with each other and plan. For now, let's eat."

"I do not require food, Master."

"That's no reason to not eat," Harry said, with a hint of mirth in his tone as he turned and walked out of the room, Sakura having retaken his hand and the three homunculi following him.

"Very well then." Rider said, already happy with her master as she followed him out of this disgusting basement. She made a mental note to incinerate this place later, preferably with the old man inside it for having the nerve to harm her master and that young friend of his.

* * *

Rider had to admit, her master was an exquisite cook. She had somewhat bemusedly followed her master up the stairs into an elegant, if still depressing mansion. There her master and his companions took her to a large kitchen, where Harry immediately set began cooking with Sakura flitting about him, ineffectively helping where she could. It had been rather adorable, watching her go around and try to help out her obvious crush despite clearly having no idea what she was doing. Her master just smiled and obliged her, giving her small tasks, peeling potatoes here, washing vegetables there. It reminded her of raising her younger sisters. This went on for about forty-five minutes when Harry finally asked the homunculi to set the table as the meal was almost done. By the time they were finished, Harry had completed and brought out a pot of a rich stew and several loaves of fresh bread to go with it. There, Rider took a small bite of the stew and had to suppress a small groan of pleasure at the taste. It was absolutely perfect.

"Do you like the stew?" Harry asked, apparently having noticed her reaction with a hint of pride.

"It is very good stew Master." Rider answered, glancing around the table and seeing Sakura, Leanna, Monica, and Joy experiencing similar reactions to the stew.

"Glad to know my cooking is appreciated. Now, let's get down to business. It is my understanding that all servants summoned by the Grail are summoned because they have some desire that it will fulfill. May I ask what yours is?"

"I have no desire for the Grail."

Harry looked at her, confusion showing on his face. "Then why did you agree to being summoned if you have no wish?"

"I have a wish, but not for the Grail. What I wish most of all is to protect someone. I want to protect someone like you, Master. I wish to protect someone who has never had someone to protect them before. That is my wish for this war. To protect you."

Harry was touched at her sentiment. "Truth be told, I have little personal desire for the Grail myself as well, but I will do whatever it takes to get it. Grandfather has agreed to let myself and Sakura go in peace should we win him the Grail. If it means Sakura can live happily, I will do whatever it takes."

"If that is what you desire, Master, then it is my duty as your servant to fulfill it. The Grail shall be yours," Rider said, smiling slightly at his dedication.

Harry smiled at having reached an accord with his protective servant. He took the moment to examine his command seals. He had heard that every master has their own unique set of command seals. Upon examining his own, he saw that inscribed on his skin in red lines, overlapping and combining with the existing alchemic tattoos were three tribal insignia in the design of a shield, with two swords crossing behind it. Harry though a shield bearing weapons was a fitting sigil for a protector such as himself.

"Well, now that we are all settled, let's enjoy the rest of this meal."

And with that the meal began in earnest.

* * *

Shinji Matou was furious. That little shit Potter and his filthy whore of a little sister had summoned a servant to compete in the grail war. Shinji just knew that if he could do the same and summon his own servant, he could destroy that bastard and remove the taint from the Matou family that came in the form of Sakura. Now that he thought about it, he didn't think Harry had cleaned up the summoning circle he had used to summon that purple-haired slut with the blindfold. This gave Shinji a cunning idea.

* * *

Shinji Matou was ecstatic. It hadn't been that hard to find a couple convenient sacrifices just lying around, that is to say, out alone past dark. He'd found two adults, both women, and a little girl. A quick club to the head for each, some rope, a stolen van, and voila! Three gift-wrapped sacrifices just ready for a summoning. Shinji may not have possessed magical circuits, but with three lives to fuel the ritual, he had enough prana to pull it off. The fact that he also took the opportunity to rape the two women he was sacrificing just helped sweeten the pot. Hey, they were to get drained into empty, dead husks pretty soon, he might as well make use of them while they were around. He snuck his three sacrifices into the manor while everyone else was asleep and took them down to the summoning room. He carefully placed the two squirming women on the edges of the circle and placed the little girl in the dead center. He then did the same stupid sounding chant from the book Harry used.

"For the elements silver and iron. For the foundation, stone, and the archduke of contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. Close the gates of the cardinal directions.

Come forth from the Crown, and follow the forked road to the Kingdom

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill

Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it. Set.

Heed my words.

My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me

I hereby swear...

That I shall be all that is good in the world

That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world

You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding... Guardian of the Scales!"

Shinji watched in glee as the three victims in the center of the circle writhed in agony, unable to scream due to the gags he had placed in their mouths. Before his eyes, they dried up, like a time-lapse of a corpse in a desert, eventually looking like preserved mummies in the clothes they had been wearing prior to the ritual. There was a blinding flash of light as the room filled with smoke. As Shinji regained his vision, he looked excitedly toward the center of the circle to see what cool servant he had summoned. The smoke cleared, and Shinji gazed on a hooded woman with a blue hair, kneeling on the ground.

"Servant Caster answers your summons. I ask of you, are you my master?"

* * *

Medea sat in the throne of heroes, partaking in every heroic spirit's favorite pastime, reflection. Medea was a woman who had been screwed by fate and the gods, and repaid them by betraying as many times as she had been betrayed. This had earned her a rather infamous position on the throne of heroes, with her most famous title being, "The Witch of Betrayal." Medea understood why people were so wary of her, even if she thought them fools. Everything Medea did was in response to evil being inflicted on her. She had started out a kind, innocent young princess, until the gods forced her to commit terrible crimes against her fellow man and the the world turned on her. "You're a monster!" the people had cried at her. "And so I shall be," she had answered. So she killed, manipulated, tortured, seduced, and betrayed. It wasn't until she finally met her end that she realized that it hadn't been worth it. Sure, the majority of the world consisted of sheep for her to use, but she also had to admit that there was good in the world. Even after she had become a monster, there had been people who were kind and fair to her, even though she had been too caught up in her sins to notice them. As such, she had used and crushed them like the rest.

This reflection came to a halt though though when she felt a grail summoning call out for her. She felt it the connection, though it was strangely weak for some reason. She felt towards her summoner and found an individual with which she felt she could redeem herself. It was a young boy, one who had been beaten and broken. She looked through this boy's life and felt further ashamed. This boy had been through hell comparable to hers, but hadn't let it break him or turn him against the world, not all of it at least. Instead he had let it harden him, making him more capable of protecting those he was close to. She decided that she would protect this boy, and keep him safe. Perhaps if she did so, she could finally earn the redemption she sought. Her mind made up, she let the weak connection pull her into the material world.

Little did she know, she was sensing the previous user of the summoning circle, and not the current one.

* * *

Caster was... confused, to say the least when she appeared in the circle and looked up expecting to see a young, black haired boy and instead saw an arrogant, blue haired boy leering at her with a hungry look in his eye. Just being looked at by this boy made her feel violated, like he had somehow skipped undressing her with his eyes and gone straight on to full blown rape. What confused her even more was that this boy did not appear to be a magus, as despite feeling the contract between them, she was receiving no prana from him at all. Thankfully, she seemed to have full reserves at the moment, but it appeared she wouldn't be getting any more from her apparent master. Wondering just where the prana had come from, she looked around and what she saw made her very angry. Immediately behind her was the dried husk of a little girl, no older than six, completely drained of prana. Two older women to her left and right were similarly drained. Despite her anger at the obvious cold-blooded murder of three women, there was a certain decorum to be kept until she could figure out what went wrong with the summoning and track down the boy she had intended to be her master. Once she figured that out, she could use Rule Breaker and rebind herself to that boy instead. Then, she could kill this sadistic boy, slowly and painfully if possible. Her plan of action devised in the span of two seconds, she waited for the dust to clear and intoned the customary phrase.

"Servant Caster answers your summons. I ask of you, are you my master?"

* * *

Shinji looked at this woman he had summoned to be his slave with hunger in his eyes. This was far better than he had hoped. Not only did he get a slave he could use to win the war, but he got a smoking hot one. He was already having visions of just what he could do with this slut. Anyway, for the moment, he should probably answer her and make sure she new her place.

"Yes, slave. I have summoned you and am therefore your master. Do not bother me with such pointless questions in the future."

"Yes, Master." With some insight into the boy's personality, Caster decided that the "submissive slave" routine would keep this boy satisfied until she could find her true summoner.

"Good, for now, I have something I need you to do."

"What is it, Master?"

"There is another servant in this manor, Servant Rider. You are going to kill her later."

"As you wish, Master."

"Good, but first, there's another matter I need you to take care of. You see, those two women I raped earlier struggled too much and ruined the fun. And what's the point of having these command seal things if I can't have a little fun?"

Casters felt fear paralyze her as the command seals on the boy's arm glowed.

* * *

"Goodnight Rider, and get some sleep. I don't want you to stay awake and astralized all night. This is the Matou Estate, nobody will attack us here," said Rider's beloved master.

"Of course, Master. But I will take the time to familiarize myself with the manor, in the unlikely event it should be attacked."

"Alright," her master obliged, "just make sure you get some sleep. Consider that an order if it helps."

"Thank you, Master. I will be sure to do so." Rider internally chuckled at her master's care.

She watched as her master climbed down into that fetid worm pit, the worms immediately dragging him down and borrowing into his flesh. Moving next to her, Sakura dragged out a futon, placed it a couple feet from the edge, placed a second one near it, presumably for Rider to sleep on, and laid down to sleep. Rider mentally reaffirmed that she would absolutely destroy anyone who attempted to cause suffering to her selfless master and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Caster was livid. That _boy_ had used his command seals to _violate_ her! His first order was that she did not harm him. His second was that she disrobe. His third was that she-

Caster mentally cut herself. Dwelling back on it would do little to solve the matter. All she could do was move beyond it and quietly resolve to torture and kill him later. She stalked through this manor, recognizing portions of it from the flashes of her true master's memories she had felt on the throne. She was still greatly confused as to exactly what had happened. The only thing she could think of was that two people had preformed simultaneous summonings and she responded to one and been dragged to the other. She could tell that this was the manor her true master had been tortured in, but the bounded fields surrounding the manor interfered with her ability to search for his prana. Perhaps this was the former residence of her true master, and he had moved out while that slimy boy in the basement masquerading as her master moved in after him. Maybe it was that link to the residence and the fact that the boy used sacrifices instead of his own prana that caused her to feel her true master instead of the scum that had preformed the ritual. Regardless of these thoughts, there was currently a servant in the manor, and she had to make sure she survived long enough to track down her original master. It was just as she rounded a corner that she came almost face to face with a blindfolded, purple-haired woman.

* * *

Rider walked through the desolate hallways of the manor. The place was entirely depressing. What once may have been a lovely and elegant manor, full of love and light seemed to have been tainted by mere proximity to the bastard her master called "Grandfather." Despite what her master may have ordered, she was not convinced as to the security of the manor. It may have been her imagination, but she had felt prana fluctuations an hour or so ago and was determined to find the source. To that end, she began stalking throughout the manor, her chain weapon in hand, ready to kill whatever was threatening her master. It was just as she rounder a corner that she came almost face to face with a hooded, blue-haired woman. She reacted instantly.

* * *

Caster just barely dodged it when what looked like a knife attached to the end of a chain skimmed past where her head had been milliseconds ago. She jumped back, caught flat footed, and on reflex chanted her divine words and shot a large fireball at what she assumed was Servant Rider. Rider ducked around it, and it impacted against the wall, causing a large explosion that shook the manor. Slightly recovered, Caster dodged yet another swing of that odd chain and began shooting fireballs as fast as she could at this Servant.

* * *

Internally, Rider was panicking. When she had felt those prana fluctuations, she had thought it might be an enemy master taking a poke at the bounded fields, not a full-blown enemy servant infiltrating the manor. She mentally called out to her master to warn him of the threat. She felt him awake, and acknowledge the threat.

" _Hang on Rider, I'm coming,"_ Harry said over their mental link.

" _Master, that is not a wise decision."_

" _Regardless, it is the one I'm making. I will not leave my servant to fight alone while I can help it."_

Rider's concentration was broken as she was forced to dodge yet another barrage of fireball from this apparent Caster.

* * *

Harry climbed out of the worm pit, slightly weakened from the exposure. He snuck past the still-sleeping Sakura, and went to the nearby room where the homunculi slept. After awakening them and explaining the situation, they armed up. Leanna and Joy pulled out their weapons of choice: Dual collapsible batons specially designed for homunculi use, which is to say that they each weighed about one and a half tons. Harry had alchemically crafted the batons, making them ridiculously heavy and almost impossible to break. A good swing from one of them hit the target like a wrecking ball, capable of caving in a tank. Monica's hands began crackling as she channeled lightning through them. The three homunculi sisters took up a defensive formation around Harry as he went in the direction Rider had indicated him. Even without the directions, it wouldn't have been too hard to find. All one had to do was follow the explosions.

* * *

Caster was in trouble. Normally, she would be able to outlast a servant such as Rider, as it was standard procedure for a Caster-class servant to tap into local ley lines to fuel themselves. The problem was that Caster hadn't had the time to do this, and her current bastard of a master certainly wasn't providing her any more. Because of this, she was almost out of prana. She only had a few more good barrages of fireballs left in her before she would have to retreat back to that twisted master of hers and likely do unsavory things to get more prana. She was already plotting her retreat when movement behind Rider caught her eye and she gasped. Coming around the corner was her true master, flanked by three beautiful women with black hair, red eyes, and for some reason wearing maid uniforms. All three were armed though, and if Caster's guess that they were homunculi were correct, she needed to be slightly wary of them as the physically weakest servant. The homunculi didn't matter all that much though. What mattered was the boy whose summons she had answered and with whom she hoped to redeem herself. It was a second later that she realized that she had likely just been attempting to kill his servant as Rider took a protective stance in front of the boy and prepared to charge once again. Caster did the only thing she could do.

"WAIT!"

* * *

Harry was very confused. He had come into the hallway expecting to have to fight a servant, but instead the second this blue-haired woman saw him, something that he could only identify as "recognition" flashed across her face. As Rider jumped in front of him to shield him and prepared to charge again, Caster immediately stopped casting and put her hands up.

"WAIT!"

Now Harry was even more confused. Seeing Rider tense in preparation to charge again, he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Wait Rider."

Rider looked back at him in shock

"Master, she's an enemy servant and obviously attempting to deceive us or buy time to escape. We have to kill her now."

"Perhaps she is, but I would still like to ask her some questions. Chiefly, how she got past the bounded fields and into the manor."

"Some teenager in the basement summoned me, raped me, and then ordered me to kill Rider," a soft, melodic voice interjected.

Harry looked up to see that Caster had taken her hood down. Harry had to admit that Caster was a beautiful woman, with soft, aristocratic features, beautiful light-blue eyes, and long blue hair the color of the ocean. What surprised him even more was that she was answering his question. Harry immediately knew who she was speaking of.

"Is this teenager about 17, blue hair, voice that just makes you want to strangle him?"

Caster smiled slightly. "Yes, that seems to be a fairly good description."

Harry cursed. Leave it to Shinji to preform a summoning, rape the servant, and then immediately order her to try and kill him and his servant.

"I see. If Shinji is your master, you have my pity."

Caster figured she had nothing to lose and decided to try and convince Harry to take her on as a servant. If he didn't, she was dead anyway.

"I never said Shinji was my master, only my summoner. You see, Harry, you are technically my master."

Harry started. "Pardon?"

"I mean what I said. Shinji sacrificed three people to summon me in what I assume was the same circle you used to summon servant Rider there," Caster said, indicating towards the still tense Rider, who was currently preoccupied with joining the homunculi in their shielding of Harry.

"You see, Harry. What I felt and responded to on the throne was your ambient prana left over from your summoning. Imagine my surprise when I came out to find that blue-haired rapist instead."

"I see. I apologize for that. It wouldn't have happened had I cleaned up the circle when I was done."

"Don't apologize, just listen to my request. My noble phantasm is called, Rule Breaker. It lets me sever and rebind any magical contract. I lack the prana to use it right now, though, as Shinji doesn't possess circuits and can't supply me with any more. With it, I can break my contract with Shinji and rebind it to you. So, what I am asking, I suppose, is if you will accept me as your servant?" There, the cards were thrown on the table. The only thing to wait for was for the ax to fall.

Harry was shocked. Here was a servant that had been trying to kill Rider moments earlier kneeling before him, begging him to accept her contract. Harry knew that if he didn't accept her contract, he would be forced to either kill her, which he didn't want to do as he felt pity for her, or send her back to Shinji, which was even worse. His mind made up, he spoke again.

"How much prana do you need to power your noble phantasm?"

Caster was surprised, expecting him to turn her down out of suspicion. Rider was just as surprised, turning to face him.

"Master, it's not my place to question your decisions, but is it really such a wise idea to empower an enemy servant's noble phantasm based on a story alone?"

"Perhaps not, but like I said before: it may not be the wise idea, but it the one I'm making because I'm not sending her back to Shinji to get raped again. So, Caster, how much prana do you need."

Caster took a moment to find her voice. "Not a lot. My noble phantasm is considered rather weak, so it is low power."

Harry projected a small cup and a knife. He sliced his hand open, letting the prana-enriched blood pour into the cup. He stepped past Rider, approached Caster's kneeling form, reached down, and handed her the cup.

Caster took the cup, and drank it down happily, ignoring the taste. She was happy that the boy she knew she could redeem herself by protecting had accepted her, and for that, she would serve him as long as he wished. Feeling her prana reserves recharge, she produced her dagger and powered it up. She pricked herself with it once, severing her contract to that slime that had summoned her, reached over and pricked Harry's outstretched hand, rebinding herself to him. Immediately, prana flooded through her body in massive quantities, a testament to Harry's large amount of circuits that he could easily support two servants. She looked up at her new master, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Servant Caster is now yours to command, Master."

* * *

Shinji Matou was pissed. He had sent that slut he had summoned to kill Rider hours ago. She was his slave, dammit, and she was supposed to obey him! If she didn't, what use was she? It was bad enough that he had to use all three command seals just so he could let some stress off, but now he had to wait while she took goddamn forever just to kill one servant! Honestly, the Potter brat summoned Rider, how strong could she possibly be? His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room opened and the slut in question strolled into his room like she owned the place.

"About goddamn time," Shinji snarled as he marched up to her to give her a well-deserved backhand. He was confused, however, when she grabbed his wrist and gave him a cold smile.

"Shinji," said a voice that made him freeze. No no no no no! This couldn't be happening! "I knew you had fallen pretty far over the years, but rape and murder? That's beyond even what I thought of you."

Shinji looked past Caster and what he saw made his heart drop. That fucking Potter brat was standing there with all his whores: Sakura, those three dolls of his, and that purple-haired cunt, who was looking at him with a hungry expression on her face, but much different than the hungry expression on his face when he looked at women.

"Shinji, I was prepared to let you walk out of this war unscathed, but now? Now I have to put you down for the public good. Granted, the fact that everyone in this room hates you only makes that easier."

"Caster, Rider," he ordered, "make my displeasure with him known."

Shinji gulped as the two servants looked at him with eyes bearing nothing but sadistic glee.

The screams emanating from Matou manor that night would have sparked local ghost stories for years to come had the bounded fields not kept them contained.

* * *

With the matter of Shinji dealt with and three new command seals dotting his left arm, Harry decided it was time to have a discussion with his newest servant. Just as he reached an accord with Rider over dinner, he hoped to reach an accord with Caster over breakfast. Over a simple meal of oatmeal and cereal, Harry opened up discussion with the blue-haired elf across the table.

"So Caster, I had a talk with Rider over dinner last night and would like to hear your response to the same question so that we can work together better. What is your wish for the Grail?"

"I have none," was her reply.

For some reason, Harry wasn't surprised. "Then what is your wish for the war?"

"To protect you."

Once again, Harry, for some reason, expected this. "And why is that, exactly?"

"When I was alive, I... was a monster. I had horrible things done to me and did horrible things in return. It wasn't until the end of my life that I realized that I had been given the choice between becoming a monster and becoming a protector, and I realized the choice I had made. Maybe this is penance is some way, but when I felt you through the Grail and saw all the evil that had been inflicted upon you and the fact that you hadn't turned into a monster I thought that, just maybe, I can redeem myself by protecting him, and keeping him from following my path. So that is my wish, to shield you from harm so that you do not follow my path."

Harry looked at her for a moment, then smiled.

"I thank you, Caster. I guess something about me just makes people want to protect me like I want to protect them. I thank you for your wish and will do my best to fulfill it by being the best master I can be. My desire for this war is also to protect. The only way Grandfather will willingly let Sakura and me free from his machinations is if I win the war for him. I will do so, so that Sakura never has to look upon this manor again, so that she never has to sleep in that worm pit again, and so that she is free to find her own life and love, free from Grandfather's manipulations."

Sakura teared up a bit and took Harry's hand in her own as a silent thanks.

* * *

Upstairs in his office, Zouken Matou chuckled darkly as he watched events unfold in the manor. One modification to the bounded fields surrounding the manor allowed him to observe any part of it whenever he wanted. He had been overjoyed when the boy he had invested so much in showed such promising results. His servant Rider was clearly a very powerful servant, surpassing even the presence of Berserker in the last war. Perhaps the boy's amount of prana had led to the servant becoming more powerful than originally intended, but she was obviously very powerful. Caster was an unexpected but very welcome bonus. When he had first seen Shinji leave the manor and come back with three bound women, he had been confused. When he took them down to the basement, summoned a servant, raped her, and then sent her after Rider he had been intrigued. When Caster severed her contract with Shinji and rebound herself to Harry, he had been ecstatic. He had watched the fight and knew that it was only Harry's ambient prana left over from the last summoning and the prana from three whole human sacrifices that allowed Caster to keep up with Rider in the fight. With both of them on the same side under Harry, he had likely just become the top player in the war. Even Zouken took a certain joy in watching the two servants slowly disassemble Shinji while Harry, Sakura, and the homunculi watched on impassively. Well, Harry watch impassively. Sakura and the homunculi both seemed to take pleasure in watching Shinji suffer. Whether it was because he was an annoying twat towards Harry or Shinji was just irritating had yet to be seen. Zouken was also intrigued by the fact that both of the servants had answered Harry's summons not out of a desire for the Grail, but out of some desire to protect Harry. It was odd to say the least that both servants were villains that saw a little of themselves in Harry and wanted to protect him so he wouldn't follow down the same path. Zouken decided to reflect on the matter further later. For now, he would sit back and watch Harry. The boy's life was just so very interesting.


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting the Masters

**Merry Christmas! Neolyph here to bring you one last chapter before the Christmas Day as an early present from me to you! This story has gotten a lot more traction than I thought it would, so thank you all who follow, favorite and review! I'm not sure if I can keep this rapid update schedule as I am a student and writing in my free time, so updates might slow a bit once the holidays end. Sorry about that. On the good news, however, Arawn D. Draven has agreed to be my beta, so these chapters starting next one should undergo a noticeable improvement. Anyway, while I'm doing Author's Notes, I might as well reply to some reviews.**

 **Gawain-Knight of the Sun: Thank you, that made me laugh for a good minute.**

 **Arawn D. Draven: I agree, I did rush parts of the chapter a little bit. If I do a re-write at any point I'll clean that up a bit, but for now I'm enjoying the holidays! Also, regarding the command seals, while Shinji did use all 3 command seals, Caster didn't possess enough prana or ranks in Independent Action to both kill Rider and use Rule Breaker. Figuring that if she stuck with Shinji she'd find some way to regain prana until she could track down Harry, she didn't immediately sever the contract and leave.**

 **Temsen: That was intentional. That section of the story is prior to a three year time skip. Shinji is seven years older than Harry, so when Harry was six, Shinji was fourteen.**

 **Guest: Thanks. I don't have any intentions of abandoning this story unless a truck runs over both of my hand or something.**

Chapter 3: Meeting the Masters and Starting Positions

* * *

Kiritsugu Emiya covered his mouth as yet another series of coughs wracked his body, interrupting his painting the circle on the floor of the small workshop he had built outside his house in Fuyuki. Pulling his hand back from his mouth, he saw it stained red.

"How far have I fallen?" he though the himself.

"I, who was once one of the most feared names in magi history am sitting on a dirty bit on concrete, barely able to muster the strength to paint a magic circle."

He knew that somewhere out there, Gaia and Alaya were laughing and high-fiving at his misfortune.

Brushing those thoughts aside, Kiritsugu refocused on his current task: finishing this circle.

Re-wetting the brush in the paint made from his blood and other various ingredients, he continued with his work.

It was not until the sun had long set in the horizon that he finally stood, having completed and triple-checked that the summoning circle was perfect. With his limited amount of prana, he could not afford to mess this up. As he slowly stood, wincing a bit as he put weight on his aching joints, he surveyed the circle one more time and prepared for the summoning he had done once before, the summoning he would do so that he could right the many wrong he had done in his life.

"For the elements silver and iron. For the foundation, stone, and the archduke of contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. Close the gates of the cardinal directions.

Come forth from the Crown, and follow the forked road to the Kingdom

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill

Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it. Set.

Heed my words.

My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me

I hereby swear...

That I shall be all that is good in the world

That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world

You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding... Guardian of the Scales!"

Just as he remembered, smoke and light filled the room. He groaned as his weakened circuits flared, their heat burning into him. He knew his efforts had been successful though as he glanced to the center of the circle and saw kneeling there, noble and dignified as ever, Saber."

Saber, still kneeling and looking at the floor, opened her mouth to intone the customary greeting when he cut her off.

"Welcome back, Arthuria."

* * *

Arthuria Pendragon froze upon hearing that voice as confusion welled up inside her. That confusion was then replaced by an all-consuming rage as she remembered all that cold voice had put her through. The memories started flooding back into her: being summoned and immediately passed off to his wife, being forced to fight and kill her most loyal knight, having that twisted king attempt to claim her as his wife, watching Caster preform his twisted rituals on children while being ordered to not interfere, watching the a young woman who longed to see the world brutally killed, being forced to destroy the Grail that she so desperately needed, and above all else, she remembered Kiritsugu Emiya's hand guiding all of it. Needless to say, she was a bit cross with him.

"It's been quite some time, hasn't it, Saber. Five years I believe since we last spoke."

Saber glared up, blood in her eyes, but paused as instead of seeing the haughty, dishonorable visage she typically associated with Kiritsugu Emiya, she instead saw a pale, hunched over man with a bloody handkerchief leaning against a wall, too weak to stand. This was not the confident rogue that had summoned into the last war, no, this was as if someone had taken that man and in the span of five years aged him forty. His once charcoal black hair was now almost completely gray. His once cold, calculating eyes now only showed weariness and a sort of tired resignation. His once proud and arrogant posture now resembled that of the statues she had seen depicting the Greek Titan Atlas, forever cursed to bear the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Overall, he looked the very picture of a man who had seen his goals, dreams, and ideals shattered before his very eyes.

Let is not be misunderstood, she was still ready to call down the full wrath of Excalibur on his head, but she at least wanted to hear his reasoning beforehand. She was a fair and just king after all.

"Kiritsugu Emiya. Give me one good reason I should not rend your head from your shoulders before you could get a command seal off?"

"An apology, perhaps, and an explanation," he answered in a voice she had only heard from veterans of her bloodiest and most hopeless battles.

Saber's eyes opened up slightly from their narrowed position, but her hand did stray from the hilt of her sword. This was definitely not the Kiritsugu Emiya she remembered.

* * *

"So, you mean to tell me that the Grail was tainted and unable to grant wishes without inducing destruction, so you ordered me to destroy it."

"Yes, that about sums it up," Kiritsugu replied as he put a large amount of various medications into a bottle of water before drinking it.

"And you didn't think to simply _explain_ this before using your command seals to force me to destroy the object of my quest before my very eyes?" Saber asked, eyes narrowed.

"There wasn't enough time, and I didn't think you would believe me."

"OF COURSE I WOULDN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU SPENT THAT ENTIRE WAR ACTING LIKE I WAS SOME UNWIELDY TOOL YOU WERE FORCED TO WORK WITH WHILE YOU RAN OFF TO DO THE IMPORTANT THINGS, WHICH GENERALLY CONSISTED OF ASSASSINATION AND TERRORISM!" Saber bellowed, having lost her patience.

"Do you know why I summoned you into this war, Saber?"

"Considering the fact that there is still a Holy Grail War, I would assumed that it's because you want to finish the job."

"Correct. Now, hate me all you like, but I think you and I can both agree that keeping the cursed Grail from killing even more of this city is a bit more important than whatever personal grievances we may have against each other."

Saber silently fumed, before finally assenting to his point. She was about to speak up when another part of that statement replayed in her head.

"Wait a minute. What do you mean, 'killing even _more_ of this city,'?"

"When we destroyed the Grail, it ignited most of the surrounding city sections, while fatally cursing me. It's only Avalon that's keeping me and my circuits together, weakened as they are."

"How many died, exactly."

"Everyone in that section. Thousands. The only survivor I heard about was a young boy that got enrolled in a local school. Didn't hear who took him in though."

"AND YOU DIDN'T LOOK FOR SURVIVORS IN THE FIRE YOU STARTED?" Saber had gone right back up to "livid" again.

"YOU THINK I DIDN'T TRY? THAT PLACE WAS A BURNING HELLHOLE! EVEN WITH AVALON I COULDN'T FIND ANYONE STILL ALIVE!" Kiritsugu was equally furious at the accusation.

Saber once again glowered at him, hand inching toward Excalibur.

"Look, we're going to have to get along for the moment. Right now, the plan is just to lay low, locate the Grail, and destroy it."

Saber nodded, but Kiritsugu noticed that she still looked ready to call holy wrath on his head.

As another fit of coughing caused his to wince in pain, he just prayed that the daughter he had never been able to recover didn't get involved in this mess.

* * *

Illyasviel von Einzbern stepped off the plane in the city she would kill her father in and smiled. Kiritsugu Emiya was in this city. She just knew it. Behind her, she heard her beloved guardian shift in response to her bloodlust. She reassured him that Kiritsugu's death would come soon and he calmed down. That was what she loved about him. No matter what she did, Berserker would always be a step behind her, ready to obey her commands, no matter what they were. Behind Berserker came Sella and Leysritt with her luggage. Together the three got into the car provided for them and went to the castle the Einzberns bought for the last war. She looked out the window at the sun, just beginning to dye the horizon a bloody red.

"Like the daybreak of war. How fitting," she thought.

* * *

"What do you mean you think you can summon another servant?" Harry asked Caster, slightly bewildered at the offhand comment Caster had made during their strategy session.

"Well, you see Master, I did some experiments earlier and learned that due to some anomalies in the Grail System, likely the same ones that caused the war to start only five years after the previous one, I am theoretically capable of summoning the remaining Servant Assassin and using my noble phantasm to transfer the contract to you," Caster replied helpfully.

Harry just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at the thought of this war getting any _more_ weirder.

"What would you need for this summoning?"

"The same general reagents a regular summoning would need, plus you would have to flood me with prana during the summoning to keep me from being drained. Now that I think about it, your circle is _still_ set up down it the basement. That would have the added bonus of making that whatever servant responds is matched to you and not me."

"Alright then, let's temporarily adjourn this meeting while Caster tries out this new summoning."

Harry, Sakura, Leanna, Joy, Monica, Rider, and Caster all stood and walked together down to the basement to try out Caster's idea.

* * *

With seven hands dusting up the summoning circle for yet _another_ summoning, it didn't take long for Caster to get ready. Harry flared up his circuits. With the amount of prana he produced, even supporting two servants wasn't all that much. As such, he barely needed to keep them going at all to support Caster and Rider unless they were engaged in heavy combat. Harry directed as much prana as he safely could into Caster, and through her, the summoning circle. The circle glowed as Caster began the incantation.

"For the elements silver and iron. For the foundation, stone, and the archduke of contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. Close the gates of the cardinal directions.

Come forth from the Crown, and follow the forked road to the Kingdom

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill

Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it. Set.

Heed my words.

My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me

I hereby swear...

That I shall be all that is good in the world

That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world

You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding... Guardian of the Scales!"

"Zealot answers your summons, my god."

* * *

Zealot sat in the Records of Akasha, reflecting. Throughout her life, she had dedicated herself to Allah, to such a degree that despite not possessing a true name, it was unanimously decided to simply call her, "Zealot." Everything she did was in the great name of the Creator. It was for him that she had mutilated herself repeatedly so that she could be as powerful as all of her predecessors combined. She had wished to become the next Hassan-i-Sabbah so that she could prove her dedication, despite her age. The Elders had denied her though, claiming that even though she had completed an unheard of feat and combined all the techniques of every one of the previous Hassan-i-Sabbahs, she had not created one of her own and had therefore been denied the position. The position had instead been given to the one known as Hundred-Faced Hassan, whose sole qualification was a case of split-personality disorder. At the time, she had blamed herself, believing the Elders correct and blaming the failure as proof of her lack of dedication. To further prove herself, she had decided to destroy the Holy Grail, to desecrate the most holy of the infidel's artifacts. It was not until after she died that she learned the truth of Allah, or lack thereof. Her faith had been completely shattered. The being she had dedicated her life and unwavering devotion to did not exist. Just as her sanity was slipping from her, she felt a tendril of... something calling out to her. She tentatively reached out for it and felt _him._ It was a boy: determined, brave, powerful. She could feel his magnificence bask across her in a warm golden glow. She could feel that he was bringing her back, across the void of death, to serve him. With a call such as that from a being so magnificent, she knew that she had found what she had been searching for: a being to devote herself to that she could see and properly serve. She had found a new god.

* * *

Harry blinked at the atypical greeting. An action repeated by everyone in the room save the hooded woman kneeling before him reverently. He still stood there, stock still, as Caster awkwardly approached the kneeling woman and pricked her with Rule Breaker, severing the contract and rebinding it to him. Harry didn't even move as the familiar pain of command seals once again burned into his flesh. This time it felt like they appeared stretching across his shoulders, just below his neck. Finally finding his voice, he answered rather uneloquently.

"What?"

The hooded woman shifted slightly, gazing up just enough that her eyes caught a tiny glimpse of his face before she immediately looked back down, like one gazing on something they were unworthy of. She spoke once in a tone that contained nothing but pure, unadulterated reverence.

"Most holy one, I have answered your call to service. I await your whims."

Harry once again blinked, and the room once again reciprocated. Determined to gain some answers, he asked a little bit clearer.

"What do you mean, 'your god'?"

"It is unnecessary to test me Great One. You have pulled me out of the depths of perdition with your holy light to serve you. What else could you be to me but my god?"

Harry just sighed. Today was just turning out to be one of those days. He beckoned her to stand up, which she did gracefully. He ordered her to lower her hood and she immediately complied. Now that she was standing and hoodless, he could get a good look at her. She was tall, taller than both Caster and Rider. She had long, black hair that went down both shoulders. Her eyes were a cold gray, but contained in them what he could only identify as "unwavering devotion" and "zeal" which he supposed was her namesake. Now, Harry was ten years old, but he had seen enough women in his life to know that this woman's bust was ridiculous. It was like someone has stuck two watermelons under her cloak and she hadn't noticed. How she stood, let alone fought with those things he had no clue. Perhaps she weaponized them somehow. She was an assassin after all. With no further observations to make, he decided to go through standard procedure for new servants and cook her a meal. Breakfast would be soon anyway.

* * *

Zealot was currently crying tears of joy. When she had first appeared before her new god and master and he had questioned her, she had been terrified. She had feared that her resurrection had been a mistake and that he would send her back to that empty hell. When instead he ordered her to stand and remove her hood, she had complied unquestioningly. After examining her for a moment with those wise green eyes of his, he had nodded and announced that he was going to cook a meal for all of them. She had been confused at first. She was a mere slave, unworthy of having food prepared for her, by her god no less. Then it stuck her: her god was not only a powerful and great god, but a loving and merciful one as well. When the center of her world had placed a steaming dish before her she knew that she had been blessed beyond understanding, and the only response she could manage was tears of thanks and gratitude.

* * *

Harry was slightly panicked as he placed a dish before his strange new servant and she took one look at it before bursting into tears. Worried he had done something wrong, he placed a hand on her shoulder to ask what was wrong. He had to take a step back as the woman spun around, fell to the floor, and began kissing his feet, muttering the whole time about being, "unworthy." Honestly, Harry thought he might have been better off with a servant that tried to kill him straight out of the circle. At least that would have been less confusing. Looking around the room for help, Harry only saw bemused expressions at his situation from Rider and Caster while Leanna, Joy, Monica, and Sakura were glaring at the black haired woman currently absorbed with orally polishing his shoes.

"Um, Assassin, could you stop that please?" he asked somewhat uncertainly.

He was once again surprised as she immediately shot backwards a foot, still prostrated, and began bowing while apologizing for her, "inability to contain herself in his most magnificent presence."

Harry once again sighed, told her to return to the table, and sat back down again. He decided to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"So, Assassin, I've asked my other two servants this question and heard their responses. Now I wish to hear yours. What is your wish for the Holy Grail?"

Assassin looked confused.

"My god, why would I make a wish on the heretical artifact I so desperately want to destroy?"

"The Grail summoned you to serve me in a war to claim it. The purpose of obtaining the Grail is that you can make a wish on it. Most servants are summoned due to having a wish for the Grail to fulfill."

"But, my god, it was not the Grail that summoned me, it was your holy light. I felt it from the depths of perdition and answered its call to serve you. That is why I am here. Not for the cup some heretic drank from two thousand years ago."

Harry just sighed once again.

"So the only reasoned you came here was because I summoned you, and you believe me to be a god."

"I do not believe, I know. Even if you are not a true god, your have resurrected me from the depths of perdition. What else could you be to me but a god? And what else could I be to you but your slave?"

Harry just knew that somewhere out there, Zelretch was laughing at him.

* * *

Ten year old Rin Tohsaka was in the biggest panic she had ever felt in her entire life. She had been in her workshop, casually preparing some jewels for later use, when that stupid fake priest had strolled in like he owned the place. He had then casually informed her that she should probably summon her servant soon, since there was only one opening left in the Grail war in the Archer Class, and then strolled right back out. The second he had left and his words sunk in, she had overturned half of her workshop trying to gather the necessary items for a summoning. Once she had gathered them she set out drawing a circle as fast as she dared in the basement of her mansion. She finally finished it, not even noticing that she had missed both lunch and dinner in her haste. The circle finally complete, she began the incantation. Normally, she would have supplemented her prana reserves with prana from her family's jewelcraft, but due to the war starting so soon and catching her by surprise, she didn't have a catalyst or any gems with enough prana to help the summoning. She was aware that this would result in whatever servant she summoned being weaker than usual, but she didn't care. It was her duty as the Tohsaka family head to compete, and so she was going to.

"For the elements silver and iron. For the foundation, stone, and the archduke of contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. Close the gates of the cardinal directions.

Come forth from the Crown, and follow the forked road to the Kingdom

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill

Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it. Set.

Heed my words.

My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me

I hereby swear...

That I shall be all that is good in the world

That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world

You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding... Guardian of the Scales!"

The room filled with smoke and light. She fell to her knees, her circuits feeling like they were on fire and her body feeling completely drained. She let out a sigh of relief though, the summoning has been successful. She looked to the center of the circle to see what servant she had summoned and her dropped like a stone in her chest when she saw the circle empty.

She had failed. She was worthless as the heir to the Tohsaka family if she couldn't even summon a servant. She would have been better off-

*CRASH*

Her thoughts were interrupted when a massive crash sounded from upstairs. Fearing an attack, she ran upstairs as fast as she could, circuits still flared, drained as they were, ready to meet the intruder. She came to a halt as she entered her living room to see a massive hole in the roof, wood and debris scattered around the room, and sitting on her couch giving her a look as if she had just intruded on his house was a man in a red coat with white hair.

"Sup."

* * *

Rin was getting ready to strangle this servant, or better yet, use a command seal to make him do it to himself. She had heard that some servants were rather insubordinate if they didn't respect their masters, but this was just ridiculous.

"So, why exactly should I follow a nine year old into this war?" he asked leisurely, still sitting on _her_ couch like he owned it.

"TEN!" she yelled at him hotly.

"My point exactly. You're far too immature to be my master. It would be better off if you just went to the local church and yielded your master rights. At least that way, you won't have to worry about the masters directly, just about becoming collateral damage."

At that, Rin lost it. She was fed up with this servant. Her circuits burned as one of the command seals on her arm started glowing. Archer noticed her actions.

"Wait, what the hell are you doing, you idiot!" But it was too late.

"BY THE POWER OF THE COMMAND SEAL! I COMMAND YOU TO OBEY ME!" she screamed at him.

A wave of light came off the command seal as it disappeared, but it didn't have any effect. The only change was that the formerly bemused Archer now only looked angry.

"YOU STUPID GIRL! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST WASTED ON A POINTLESS COMMAND?" he bellowed, far outmatching her previous ire.

"I have secured your obedience, Servant, now don't question me again!" she replied haughtily.

"THAT'S NOT HOW COMMAND SEALS WORK! UNLESS YOU HAVE MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF PRANA, YOU CAN'T DO GENERAL COMMANDS!"

Rin's head cooled in an instant as she realized that she had just wasted a command seal. She flopped down next to Archer on the couch, depressed.

"Heh, I really am a failure as a master aren't I? I wasted one of my most precious materials in this war simply out of anger at my servant."

"Look, girl. Let's make a deal. You provide me with enough prana to stay in this world, and I'll ensure that you don't die during the course of this war. Deal?"

Knowing that she had very little hope of winning this war she had hastily rushed into, she looked at her servant for a moment, and nodded.

"Deal."

* * *

Archer rubbed his head in confusion. He had gone through hundreds of different Grail Wars throughout his time as a Counter Guardian, but none of them happened this early. His opening interaction with Rin had been the same as it usually was, with the exception of the fact that she was ten years old. Needing to confirm something, he waited until Rin fell asleep and left her house. As he jumped across the rooftops, he noted that he was significantly slower than he usually was when versions of Rin Tohsaka summoned him. He attributed it to Rin's young age leading her to being unable to summon and support him at full servant strength. As he finally arrived at the Emiya estate, he began to stake the place out. Surveying the place the entire night, he observed two things that shocked him greatly. The first was that there didn't appear to be a Shirou Emiya living in the manor, but an elderly Kiritsugu Emiya instead. Second was that Kiritsugu had apparently summoned Saber as his servant in the war. He would confirm it some more, but it appeared that in this version of the war, either Shirou Emiya didn't exist or he didn't make it out of the Fuyuki fire. That at least made his job a lot easier. Now all he had to worry about was killing Gilgamesh and preventing Angra Mainyu from returning. Happier with his situation, he returned back to Rin's house. He had some cleaning up to do, after all.

* * *

Illyasviel von Einzbern sat on her balcony, overlooking the city that would soon become Ground Zero of the Fifth Grail War. Two feelings overwhelmed her: anticipation and loneliness. She felt anticipation at the fact that very soon, she would be able to get revenge on the man who had abandoned her to the Einzberns and killed her mother. Even now, she was planning various ways to torment and kill him. Most of the scenarios in her head involved either assorted power tools, medieval torture devices, twisted medical implements, or a combination or all three. Kiritsugu Emiya had ruined her life and she was going to make her suffer for it. In addition to her anticipation, she also felt a kind of poignant loneliness. Strangely enough, this little foray was her first step into the outside world in her entire life. In the Einzbern castle, she had never met anyone that wasn't either a homunculi conditioned for obedience or a family member that only looked on her with distaste. She had never had any real friends, unless you counted Berserker, but he wasn't much of a conversationalist. So as strange and unlikely as it was, Illya also hoped that she could possibly make a friend on this trip.

* * *

Leanna, Monica, and Joy sat across from Rider, Caster, and Assassin, neither group really willing to open up discussion in the informal, "Protect Harry," meeting they had organized after he had gone to bed. Finally, Monica broke the silence.

"So, I have heard all three of you speak regarding your various desires to protect Master Harry. As we know him best, but you're stronger, we decided that we should all sit down and work out exactly how best to keep him from getting hurt."

"Caster, Assassin, and I discussed this beforehand," Rider replied, "and we came up with a plan. Since Master has three servants, two can be protecting him at all times while the third can search for and eliminate threats to him."

"That sounds reasonable, but what about Mistress Sakura? Master Harry will prioritize her protection over his, even if it gets him killed," Leanna pointed out.

"We also took that into account." Caster said, "Master will do one of two things regarding Sakura. He will either keep her close to him when he goes out hunting, in which case the six of us should be able to protect both, or he will leave her here, in which case you three can stay behind to protect her. Between you three and the bounded fields, especially now that I have fully fortified them, most servants will be unable to even enter. If a servant somehow does break in, the bounded fields will alert Master and he will be able to quickly return and defend Sakura while you three hold the servant off."

Monica, Leanna, and Joy all exchanged a look, silently communicating in that way only close siblings can, before turning and nodding their acceptance. Rider, Caster, and Assassin also looked at each other, communicating via the telepathy Servants under the same Master were capable of, before turning and also nodding their agreement.

Having all come to an agreement, Harry's six protectors all stood. The three homunculi went to their quarters near the worm pit while the three servants astralized and took up positions around the worm pit. It was both Harry and Sakura's night in the pit, and the two sat embracing and comforting each other even as the worms did unspeakable things to them. The three servants once again vowed to kill Zouken for the things he did to their master, regardless of his wishes, the very second they found out a way they could permanently kill him, they would take it up in a second. Mentally agreeing, they took a look at the futons their master had prepared for them, wrinkled them so as to make them look slept on, and spread out in positions to guard their master's sleeping form. Their master may have wanted them to get some sleep, but they would prioritize his safety over his comfort in an instant, and after the last attack had come from inside the manor, they wouldn't take their eyes off him even for a second.

* * *

In the basement of a nearby church, Kirei Kotomine laughed as he watched his plans come together. After that moronic Bazett had showed up and started waving around her command seals, all it took was a quick slash of a knife while her servant was out hunting and he had three new command seals and a servant. With Lancer under his control, it wouldn't be that hard to make this entire war dance to his tune. It would be so much simpler if Lancer wasn't so damn _irritating_!" He hadn't had the servant for five minutes before the servant had broken into his liquor cabinet, downed the entire contents, stolen his wallet, gone out to a local bar, opened a tab in his name, and run up a 300000 yen bill in an attempt to get hammered. Once the irritating servant finally woke up from his stupor, Kirei had barely had time to express his displeasure before the servant had jumped back up and ran off into the night to hunt servants. If that wasn't what Kirei had intended for him to do in the first place, he would have used a command seal to make his point better understood.

Sighing, he took the time to do an inventory of the Masters and Servants. It appeared that Kiritsugu Emiya had made an appearance and summoned Saber, the Tohsaka girl had managed to summon Archer, Kiritsugu himself possessed Lancer, the Einzbern representative had arrived earlier that day with Berserker, it appeared that Shinji Matou had somehow summoned Caster, only to be killed, presumably by Caster, Rider had been summoned by an unknown by the name of Potter, though Kirei couldn't get a location, and finally Assassin had been summoned, but no name was given. Behind him, he heard as Gilgamesh entered the room, likely about to demand one more unreasonable things or another "as was his right as king of all." Kirei stood up, ready to preemptively keep the "King of Heroes," from throwing a temper tantrum. As he thought once more about the various players and unknowns in the war, he couldn't help but feel excited. This was shaping up to be a most interesting war indeed.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

 **Hey everyone! Merry Christmas again! Quick notes on Assassin. When I was looking at potential assassins to summon, I started pitching ideas off a friend of mine who loves Fate/Stay Night. When he threw out the No Name Assassin, I read her profile and thought she would make good comic relief. I was going to go with the appearance described on the wiki, but once again my friend stepped in and gave me an idea for an OC he was working on with a similar personality to Zealot, so I went with that OC's appearance instead, as a way of thanks for the idea. Anyway, thanks everyone who reads this story, and remember to follow, favorite, and review if you liked it.**

 **Side note, here's a full list of Masters, Servants, and Identities**

Kiritsugu: Saber- Arthuria

Illya: Berserker- Heracles

Harry: Rider- Medusa

Harry: Caster- Medea (Via Shinji)

Harry: Assassin- No-Name Assassin (Via Caster)

Rin: Archer- Shirou Emiya

Kotomine: Lancer- Cu Cuchulain (Via Bazett)

Kotomine: Archer- Gilgamesh (Via Last War)


	4. Chapter 4: Opening Moves

**Welcome back readers! I, Neolyph, come bearing another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus! I hope all of you enjoyed your holidays and New Years. I would like to apologize for the wait on this chapter as several things slowed me down. The first was spending Christmas with my family, second was that I had to work out exactly how I was going to have this Grail War go down, and third I had this chapter written out a couple days ago, but the site bugged out and I lost all my progress. Due to the wait I have neglected to beta this chapter so I could put it out faster. I'll have Arawn proof-read it after putting it out, so expect edits after the fact. On the upside, as an apology for the longer than expected wait, I made this chapter longer than they usually are. Moving on,** **Jesus Christ this story has gotten some traction. At time of writing, this story has gotten 52 reviews, 192 favorites, and 242 follows. I was 95% certain that this story was going to completely bomb due to my incompetence. Thank all of you who read, favorite, follow, and review for proving me wrong. Now, to answer reviews!**

 **Gawain-Knight of the Sun: The harem will never be sated. If I go the route I'm thinking of with this story, it might reach Emiya Clan or Fate's Gamble levels of harem. Once this story gets out of the grail war and into Hogwarts, you'll be seeing some multiverse harem shenanigans a la _Fate's Gamble_. Don't worry though, it'll be different enough from FG. I can't hold a candle to Lupine Horror so I'm not even going to try.**

 **EllieGmanlovesHalo: Still haven't made up my mind about whether to add Saber to the harem or what. Will probably be decided relatively soon.**

 **Bunny153539: Assassin isn't an OC. If you look up "No Name Assassin" on the Nasuverse wiki, she has a page. All I was saying in the AN was that I tweaked her appearance based on an OC my friend was making. If it helps give you an appearance, think Akitsu from Sekirei with long black hair, minus the crest. It's rather fitting, since their personalities are going to end up somewhat similar. Harry did basically save her from her own personal hell after all, what with learning that Allah didn't exist, similar to how Mikogami saved Akitsu from hers after she learns that she can't get winged. Blame _The Bloody Ashikabi_ and _In Flight_ for that one, as thanks to them, I goddamn love Akitsu. The potential for giggles and harem shenanigans is endless. Coincidentally, the three triplet homunculi are based off Lust from FMA. I thought it was appropriate.**

 **Dutoc: Good to know you're enjoying the story, and no, Harry wouldn't help Gilgamesh out because Gilgamesh could potentially threaten Sakura. Harry is a _very_ cold individual, so he wouldn't really have any qualms about brutally murdering anyone standing in his way or helping a monster like Gilgamesh out for the right incentive, but he puts his 'family', which consists of pretty much of just Sakura at the moment, above everything else. He wouldn't do _anything_ that has even the slightest chance of bringing harm to her.**

Chapter 4: Opening Moves

* * *

Rin Tohsaka was in serious trouble.

She had been at Fuyuki Middle School late due to feeling, strangely enough, another magus there. After searching the school for hours, she couldn't find anything. The prana she detected was too faint to truly track. All she had was a vague sensation that another magus was in or near the school, circuits active. The active circuits were a problem, as only two things required circuits to be actively channeling prana like she detected. Either someone was enacting a very long ritual or someone with _very_ high amounts of prana was keeping a servant active.

She had originally suspected Sakura, but she had gone back to the Matou manor with Harry, the boy that was always hanging around and protecting Sakura. She honestly didn't know what their relationship was, but she kind of hoped it wasn't anything... _significant_. She'd had her eye on Harry for quite a while. While her school idol persona kept her at a distance, she had a small crush on Harry. He was the strong, ambitious, cunning type. He would've made a perfect magus. Such a shame she couldn't detect a whiff of prana on him. In an adult that wouldn't have confirmed anything, but no child had enough mastery over their circuits to completely suppress all prana leakage. Anyway, this search led to her being outside the school long past dark, a very bad thing to do during the Grail War.

She thought she had gotten off clean when she suddenly felt a massive prana spike in the air around her. She looked up to see a goddamn _servant_ in front of her. Normally she wouldn't swear, even mentally, but she wasn't in her idol persona right now, and this definitely warranted swearing. She heard Archer shift behind her in preparation for battle. She took a moment to examine this servant before her in search of some weakness.

The man was tall, about the same height as Archer. He was wearing a skin-tight blue body suit, with silver metal highlighting certain parts of it. On his shoulders rested pads of the same material. His hair was a slightly darker blue than his suit, spiked up with a couple bangs drifting down in front of his face. She also noticed his red eyes, staring at her with something between bored resignation and bloodlust. She jumped as he spoke, a slight Irish accent tinting his voice.

"Well, what have we here? This is the enemy master I'm supposed to take out? A nine year old girl?"

"TEN!" she yelled at him, against her better judgement.

He chuckled, "Well I stand corrected, my lady. I do hope your servant is a good fighter. If he's good enough, I can just settle on killing him. If not... well I think you can imagine what comes next."

Archer stepped in front of Rin and drew out two swords of all things. Wasn't he supposed to use a bow?

"I'm afraid, Lancer, that I've made a deal with this young girl here. If I'm to hold up my end of the bargain, she can't be harmed. Are you sure you can't simply leave?"

"Ahh, you figured out my class did you? I'll have to figure out how you did that. And I'm afraid I'm a creature of battle. I can't be sated without combat. It's what I agreed to be summoned for after all."

With that, Lancer materialized his spear and assumed a ready position. Archer took a few steps forward and reciprocated. The two masters of combat stood across the courtyard, and at some signal known only to the two of them, charged.

Rin had to take a step back as the shockwave from the two Servants colliding hit her. Logically, she knew that Servants were the absolute peak of humanity, that the weakest servant could probably take out every magus in the association combined without much effort, but it was another thing to actually see it. Archer and Lancers were indistinguishable blurs of red and blue as they clashed against each other. Every blow that clashed shook the very air, jarring her teeth. Even despite all this confusion, she realized that her servant was losing. Whenever the Servants disengaged momentarily, she saw that her servant was all slashed up while Lancer only had a small cut on his cheek. She blamed it on the low stats her Servant had due to her lackluster summoning.

As such, Rin was in trouble, especially when she heard the red-eyed Servant's next words.

"Well, Archer, color me impressed. As much as I'm enjoying this, my Master grows impatient. He's giving me prana to use my noble phantasm. As such, our duel has come to an end. You have been an honorable foe."

As he said this, his spear began glowing an unholy red as he took it up in both hands, point facing the ground. After a second, he seemed satisfied with the amount of prana in the spear. He took a step forward, posed to throw the spear.

"Sorry about this, Archer boy. But it's time to die. GAE B-"

His attack was cut off as both him and Archer simultaneously turned toward some disturbance known only to them. Lancer stood, spear still poised to strike Archer but now gazing into the darkness.

"Who's there? Come on out!"

Rin looked in the direction the Servants were staring and saw to her horror, Harry Potter, with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. She once again cursed to herself. If a mundane learned of magic, they either had to be hypnotized or killed, and from the way Lancer was eyeing up Harry, he wouldn't be too amendable to the first option. Just as she was about to ask Archer to intervene, Harry turned and bolted. Lancer grinned to himself and gave chase.

* * *

Harry was patrolling with his three Servants, the Homunculi, and Sakura when his reinforced hearing picked up the unmistakable sound of metal on metal. Knowing that he had found what he was looking for, he told the Homunculi to stay back and guard Sakura while he started issuing orders to his Servants. Rider and Caster reluctantly parted with him to fulfill his orders while Assassin assumed her customary position a step behind him and to the left, staying astralized. He was confidant that with Assassin behind him an entire army could come at him and Assassin would decimate them simply for the audacity of their action. His plan in mind he gave the order for her to follow him and jogged in the direction of the clashing.

When Harry arrived at the scene, he used what magecraft he knew to essentially simulate an Assassin's presence concealment. It wasn't as effective as the genuine article, but against two knight class Servants engaged in battle, it would do. He watched as Rin Tohsaka of all people had her Archer Servant fight a Lancer Servant. As he observed the battle unfold, he saw that Archer was decisively losing. Harry knew Rin as Sakura's sister, and while Sakura might not particularly like Rin due to a feeling of abandonment, he also knew that Sakura still cared something for her sister.

With this in mind, Harry resolved to enact the plan he had set up. He stood up, canceled his presence concealment, and kicked a nearby rock. Immediately, both Servants stopped what they were doing and looked in his direction. Harry put on his best shocked face, stood for a moment, and then ran in the direction of the school building. He heard Lancer giving chase and had to suppress a small grin at his plan succeeding.

He ran into the school gymnasium, still acting like a terrified sixth-grader. Lancer was on his reinforced heels like a hound baying for blood. The second the Servant was across the threshold, Harry sent a mental signal to Rider and Caster, who were lying in wait as he had ordered. Rider shot out her chain, wrapping it around his legs and tripping him up. He fell forward onto a magic circle Caster had drawn in front of the entrance, which activated and restrained him. Assassin deastralized as she walked over to his prone form with a predatory grace, enraged at his attempt to kill her most beloved god and Master, and tapped him on the head. Lancer's eyes barely had time to widen as his brain was transformed to gunpowder and promptly detonated, showering the surrounding area in gore. Assassin casually resumed her position at Harry's shoulder as if she hadn't just turned a man's head into a bomb. Rider and Caster both ran up to Harry, concerned for his well-being, despite their Master Servant link informing them of such. Upon seeing the gore all over Harry, Caster quickly chanted her Divine Words and cleaned him off. Assassin had somehow come out of the ordeal without a single stain on the ridiculously revealing black dress she had been summoned in, despite the fact that she had been literally less than a foot from Lancer when he exploded. Perhaps she simply had practice with the technique.

With Lancer dead and already disappearing, Harry sat down on the bleachers to wait for Rin and what looked like either Saber or Archer to show up. While he was waiting, he ordered Rider and Caster to astralize and hide in the corners of the room and sent a mental message to the Homunculi that it was safe to bring Sakura, but to still be wary. Thanks to Caster, Harry was able to set up a mental communication system with the Homunculi that ran on similar principles to Master Servant telepathy. Apparently it only worked since like Servants, Harry's homunculi bore his prana signature due to having been created by him. He received an acknowledgement from the Homunculi and turned back to the door just in time to see Rin burst into the room with Archer at her back. The first thing she saw was the copious amount of blood around the entrance and Harry watched her eyes widen as she feared the worst. He then watched that fear turn into bewilderment as she looked up and saw him leaning back in the bleachers, untouched and unstained. She just stood there and stuttered incomprehensibly until he finally cut her off. At his mental cue, his three servants deastralized, cold eyes searching the girl and her Servant for threats to their Master and ready to annihilate them both if they were.

"So, Rin, we should probably talk."

* * *

"Well, that went significantly better than expected," Harry thought as he and his Servants left the school building. He idly wondered if he should have Assassin grab the security footage of that meeting as a birthday present for Sakura. Deciding it would be funny, he did so. As Harry sent Assassin off to get the recording, he thought back on the meeting with Rin and Archer. It had gone surprisingly well. He and Rin had worked out a deal where Harry didn't kill Rin or wish for anything destructive on the Grail in exchange for Rin granting him whatever assistance he demanded in the war. This negotiation did take slightly longer than expected due to Rin being absolutely terrified and Archer insulting her in one way or another every couple of words. After having Caster write up a geass scroll which they signed, the two parted ways. Fortunately, Caster left a loophole for Harry in the scroll in the form of the fact that the type of assistance Harry could request from Rin wasn't specified, so he could demand literally anything from her so long as it didn't kill her and she would be forced to comply. Harry didn't have any intentions of utilizing the loophole, but better to be safe than sorry. Once Assassin returned with the recording and his Servants took up positions around him, Harry mentally called the Homunculi with instruction on where to meet him. Harry met up with them and once they had finished their worrying over his risky meeting with another Master, Monica spoke up.

"Will we be returning to the Matou estate, Master?"

"You three will. Go back to the estate and get some rest. Sakura, the Servants, and I have another stop we need to make tonight."

* * *

When the doorbell roused Kiritsugu Emiya from his sleep, he wasn't sure what to think. He checked the clock in his bedroom and saw that it was one A.M. Normally, this would have made him very suspicious of whoever was at the door, especially during the middle of the Grail War, but the hostile-intent bounded fields weren't going off, which meant that whoever was at the door didn't mean him any harm. Still, it was better to err on the side of caution, so on his way to the door he stopped by Saber's room and woke her up. She dressed herself and took a seat in the sitting room. Kiritsugu continued to the door and opened it up to see two children, both of whom he recognized.

The first child was a boy, with jet black hair bearing a steak of purple, cold green eyes, circular glasses, a small but strong build, and a jagged scar stretching across his forehead. Kiritsugu felt a twinge of guilt as he recognized the boy as Harry Potter, the only survivor of the fire started by Kiritsugu's attempt to destroy the Grail. The second child was a girl, with long purple hair and purple eyes completely devoid of life or happiness. Kiritsugu felt pity well up inside him as he remembered the young girl the Tohsaka family had left in the clutches of the disgusting Zouken Matou. Kiritsugu was suspicious, but he wasn't about to leave two ten year old children out in the cold in the middle of the night during the Grail War. The boy opened his mouth to speak but Kiritsugu cut him off.

"Hello... um... it cold outside. Would you care to come in to discuss whatever you're here for?"

Kiritsugu watched the Matou girl, Sakura he believed her name was, turn to look at Harry in a shy, questioning sort of way. When her eyes landed on him, Kiritsugu saw an immediate shift from devoid of life to incomprehensible love and joy. Kiritsugu was stunned at the change in the girl simply from looking at Harry. When Harry looked back at her, he gave a slight nod before looking back at Kiritsugu.

"Thank you sir, that would be appreciated."

Kiritsugu stepped back from the doorway to allow the two to enter. They stepped in, removed their shoes, and gave traditional Japanese thanks for being invited into someone's home. Kiritsugu led them to the sitting room, where Saber had been listening in as a precaution. As Harry rounded the corner, Saber went from relaxed but cautious to full-blown battle mode. She leapt up from her sitting position, drawing Excalibur in the process and pointed it at Harry. His usually composed Servant's reaction immediately put Kiritsugu on edge.

"Saber, whats wrong?"

"Three Servants are standing behind the boy, very powerful ones at that," Saber replied, not taking her eyes off Harry or the Servants behind him.

Kiritsugu tensed as panic flooded his mind. Objectively, he knew that Saber was a _very_ strong Servant, but Kiritsugu wasn't able to support her at full strength, and even if he could, he didn't think she could take on three enemy Servants in close quarters. Looking at Harry warily, Kiritsugu was surprised when Harry put his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Relax please, Kiritsugu Emiya and Saber, I'm here under a white flag."

Kiritsugu was confused at that. The boy somehow got his hands on three Servants and brought them to his house simply to talk? Kiritsugu had quite a lot of experience with liars during his time as the Magus Killer, and he could not see any hint of deceit in the boy. Saber seemed to concur as she slowly lowered her weapon. Kiritsugu motioned toward the couch opposite Saber as he took a seat next to her. Harry and Sakura sat opposite to them and from the way Saber's eyes followed the air, the boy's three Servants stood behind their Master. Seeing that the owner of the house was waiting for him to start, Harry started the discussion.

"So, Mr. Emiya, before we begin discussing anything, I have a request. One of my Servants is Caster. Do I have your permission for her to set up a certain type of bounded field around the house? You may examine it, of course, to ensure it's nothing malevolent. Though I cannot explain what it is, the bounded field relates to the topic of our discussion."

The Magus Killer was opposed to the idea, but also knew that he wasn't really in a position to decline should the boy force the issue. He gave his hesitant consent and watched as the boy motioned toward a nearby wall and a woman in a hooded dress materialized out of thin air and began drawing a sigil on it. While Kiritsugu didn't know much about constructing bounded fields, more about breaking them, he knew enough to recognize that the bounded field the Caster was setting up was designed to block magical signals of some sort from entering the house, though what kind of magical signals he hadn't the foggiest. The Servant finished the field and powered it up. Harry breathed a visible sigh of relief and relaxed.

"Thanks you, Caster."

"Of course, Master."

With that, the woman astralized again. Harry leaned back on the sofa and put a comforting arm on Sakura, who was looking scared for him. At his touch, her eyes lit up, she blushed, and she shyly leaned into him. All in all, it was rather adorable, Kiritsugu thought. Harry looked up at Kiritsugu to continue the conversation.

"I thank you for your show of trust, Mr. Emiya. With that bounded field up, I can speak much more freely than I usually would. As you likely know, I am Harry Potter, and this is Sakura Matou," Harry said, motioning toward himself and Sakura respectively.

"What you likely don't know, Mr. Emiya, is that I have also been a ward of the Matou family since the Fuyuki fire and am their representative in this war. But, as you and I are both aware, with the Grail corrupted, there will be no winner to this war."

It was only Kiritsugu's ingrained composure from his years as an assassin and Saber's diplomatic training as a king that kept them from gaping at that statement. A ten year old boy had figured out that the Grail was corrupted?

"While I agree with you, what does this have to do with us?" Kiritsugu asked.

"I can help you destroy the Grail, but I need your assistance with something first," Harry said bluntly.

"What would that be?" Kiritsugu inquired, a tad apprehensively.

"What exactly do you know of the Matou brand of magecraft, Zouken's specifically?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. They've always been rather tight-lipped about it."

"Well, you see, Mr. Emiya, Zouken Matou specializes in a very twisted form of magecraft. His greatest weapons are his familiars. What he does is turn specially bred magical worms into his familiars. Once implanted into family members, they feed on their host and in exchange can operate as crude artificial magic circuits. In men, the worms feed on bone marrow and spinal fluid. In women, they incite and feed on lust. Fortunately, neither of us have to deal with these yet, as I produce enough magical energy to sate them and Sakura has not undergone puberty yet. Unfortunately, neither of these circumstances will last, as I can only keep them sated for so long before they become accustomed to my magic and start feeding on my body, and Sakura will hit puberty in roughly three years. The worms also bear another problem. They are all Zouken Matou's familiars and he implants dozens of them into every magus in the family. What do you imagine he could do with them?"

Kiritsugu was already horrified from the boys explanation, but the horror grew even further as he realized the implications of the boy's question.

"He could monitor and take complete control of any magus the worms are implanted in," Kiritsugu said grimly.

Harry nodded his head as Sakura buried her head in his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her to comfort her.

"Do you understand why I ordered Caster to put up a bounded field that would cut Zouken's connection to his familiars?"

Kiritsugu nodded once again before a question dawned on him.

"So, why did you even agree to have the worms implanted in the first place?"

Kiritsugu knew that was the wrong question as Sakura further buried her head in Harry's shoulder and started crying. Harry gave him a positively murderous glare before spitting out his reply.

"Neither of us agreed to have the worms implanted. Zouken has a pit in the basement full of them. Sakura had been tossed in there a week before I was. The worms simply enter you any way they can. Sakura lost her virginity to a fucking worm and I have had dozens of the things eat me from the outside simply to get it. If I didn't know medical alchemy, I would be more scar tissue than human."

Kiritsugu really did gape this time as Saber tightened her grip on her sword to the point where the metal started creaking, looking about five seconds from jumping up, tracking down Zouken, and shoving Excalibur down his throat. A familiar feeling welled up inside her as she gazed at the boy sitting across from her, protectiveness. She looked into the boy's eyes and saw courage, determination, and a desire to protect, which as a knight, she could get behind, it was what a knight was for after all. Harry finally calmed Sakura down and spoke up again.

"With this explained, I have my request. I understand that the catalyst you used to summon your servant is Avalon. Under normal circumstances, surgically removing the crest worms would cause them to attempt to do as much damage as they could on the way out by releasing poisons and doing as much damage to the nervous system as they could, but if we flood Avalon with prana, we can use it to purge the worms as they are unhealthy to the body, along with any nasty surprises they might leave. So, Mr. Emiya, I request of you, will you permit me to make use of Avalon in exchange for my assistance in destroying the Grail?"

Saber gave Kiritsugu a look and said, "Kiritsugu, while I know you're probably going to agree, just so you know, if you don't, I will kill you and pull Avalon out of your corpse. These kids need this and it is my duty as a knight to protect them."

Kiritsugu glared back at her. "Saber, do you truly think so little of me? These kids need help and by God I'm going to help them. Here, kid," Kiritsugu said before grimacing and pulling Avalon in all its glory out of his chest and setting it on the table. Harry picked the sheath up with a look of gratitude in his eyes.

"Do you mind if I make use of you room over there?" he asked, indicating toward the guest room.

"Be my guest," Kiritsugu replied.

Harry took Sakura by the hand and led her into the guest room. Saber watched the boy's three Servants follow him in.

Once the door was shut, Kiritsugu and Saber both let out the emotions they had been holding in during the conversation. Kiritsugu wept for the first time in years at the knowledge that he was somewhat responsible as the fire he started led to Harry being taken in by that slimy worm Zouken Matou. Saber looked after the boy, silently vowing to protect one so like her. While the boy had not said so, she could clearly see that he operated as a shield against Zouken for that Sakura girl. Seeing the similarities between herself and the boy and thinking about the consequences that road had led her down, she knew that she couldn't let any misfortune befall the boy, whatever the cost.

* * *

In the guest room of the Emiya estate, Harry laid Sakura down on the bed. Pulling out Avalon and resting it beside her, he gently removed her shirt. Normally this would be a very intimate thing, but Harry and Sakura had slept together in the worm pit naked for three straight months before. Sakura still blushed as Harry folded the shirt and set it to the side. He picked up the sheath, rested the point above her heard, took her hand in his, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You ready?"

Sakura nodded, keeping his hand in a death grip like she usually did as Harry powered up the sheath and it slowly lowered itself into her. Instantly, her body was wracked with pain as the worms desperately tried to fight the presence that was killing and dissolving them, but to no avail. Any normal person would have already passed out from the pain but with her beloved Harry there, she barely felt a thing. It took another hour before Harry declared the process complete, having checked her over four times, then called Caster over to do her own examination and her concurring. Satisfied, Harry carefully removed Avalon from her. While she had been somewhat numb to the changes while it was in her, once it was gone, she felt things she hadn't felt in five years. The two major things she noticed were that her hymen had returned and her body didn't feel as dirty and disgusting as it once did. She knew she was getting her hopes up, but maybe Harry would accept her like this. She looked up at the man who had done so much for her, tears welling in her eyes. She did the only thing she could think to do. She lunged up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn't a kiss born out of lust or desire, but one of pure love and devotion. She looked into his beautiful green eyes and knew that she would belong to them forever for this. Gazing into his eyes, she smiled for the first time since her parents had abandoned her.

"Harry, I love you.

* * *

It was another hour before Sakura finally stopped crying into his shirt and fell asleep next to him on the bed. Even asleep, she maintained the death grip she had held him in since the operation was complete. She hadn't held onto him like this since their first night in the pit. Fortunately for Harry, he had the foresight to go ahead and implant Avalon in himself while she did this, so the process was almost complete in him as well. Once it was, he would have to wake Sakura up and take care of some business, but for now, he could let her sleep for another hour. Harry took the moment to send a quick message to the Homunculi in the manor over his mental link with some instructions.

* * *

Inside Harry's soul, an ancient being was in great distress. Angra Mainyu had been quite happy with its host, implanted in the worms that were stuck in the boy's body. It was able to slowly build power by leeching it from the worms it was implanted in. Pretty soon, it would be powerful enough to start influencing the boy's thoughts and desires to make him a more suitable host. That all changed though when a sudden holy presence flooded the boy. The holy light started killing the worms, leaving Mainyu without a container. It was too weak to penetrate the boy's soul, especially now with holy light weakening it. Desperate, it started searching around for some escape when it felt it. Somehow, this boy had a second, weaker soul inside him. Not one to pass up an opportunity, Angra Mainyu dove headfirst into this new soul. Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly careful in its haste to escape Avalon, and as a result essentially lobotomized the soul fragment, removing the personality and only leaving memories and abilities. This little hidey-hole permitted Angra Mainyu to safely hide from the light. It would be unable to gain any power in here, but if the boy got close enough to the Grail, it should be able to take over the body.

* * *

At the Matou manor, Zouken was shaking with anger. That _boy_ had gone and defied him! He had pulled that boy out of the rubble and turned him into a magnificent magus and this was how he repaid that generosity? The boy had somehow gone and killed the worms inside himself and Sakura. Zouken would not let this stand. He would go out there and show that impudent boy what happens to people who defy the head of the Matou family! He mentally called every worm he had spread throughout the city as scouts back to the pit. Let's see that boy defy him again after a night completely buried in worms! Zouken would even take manual control to make them violate his lovely granddaughter right in front of the boy, over and over again and then burrow into his eyes, take control of his brain, and make him rewatch the scene for a week. Zouken stormed out the door of the office so enraged that he forgot one important detail. He was reminded of that detail as a baton weighing several hundred pounds hit him in the back of the head like a speeding truck, knocking him unconscious.

* * *

With that worm who had harmed their Master unconscious, Leanna, Monica, and Joy followed the orders their Master had telepathically relayed to them and dragged him down into the basement. There, they kicked him into the worm pit, though not without taking the time to beat the ever-loving shit out of him. With him in the pit and still unconscious, Monica activated the bounded field she had been instructed to set up over the pit. The field would keep Zouken completely contained along with all of the worms he had summoned from all over the city. With Zouken trapped, the Homunculi set themselves up to await their Master.

* * *

After letting her rest an hour, Harry roused Sakura. Feeling the worms inside him gone, he pulled Avalon out of him. Looking up from the chair he had fallen asleep in, he saw his three Servants standing around the room, standing at silent attention. Harry tilted his head as the Homunculi confirmed that their mission was complete, before giving a grin that would have sent sharks running. He looked at his Servants and Sakura, who was now awake and looking at him with a bright smile and love in her eyes.

"Well, it appears that my plan has come to fruition. Sakura, I have a surprise for you."

Sakura looked at him, still smiling. "What is it Harry?"

Harry just kept up his own, bloodthirstier grin. "That's a surprise. We'll have to go to the estate to see it though."

Sakura walked over to him, and as usual latched onto his hand, but took it a step further by completely pressing herself against his side. He imagined that if she could walk while hugging him tightly, she would be doing so right now. Harry ordered his Servants to follow him and they took up their own usual defensive formation around him. He walked out of the room back into the sitting room where Kiritsugu and Saber were still sitting, drinking tea. Saber and Kiritsugu both looked at him, visible concern on their faces.

"How are you two feeling? I tried to check on you two earlier, but your Servants wouldn't let me in. They said you were resting."

Harry mentally sent his thanks to his Servants for letting them rest after that ordeal. His Servants simply reaffirmed that they would protect him in every way necessary, and that it was their duty as part of that. Harry thanked them nonetheless.

"We're feeling much better. The operation was a complete success. We were just heading back to the estate now to well..." Harry looked at Sakura before leaning over and whispering into Kiritsugu's ear before leaning back and Sakura latching onto him again.

"Would you care to join us?" Harry asked.

Kiritsugu got a grin on his face and Harry could tell that he mentally communicated it to Saber because she suddenly sported the same grin. Both of them nodded in agreement. Harry handed Avalon back over to Kiritsugu before heading toward the door. Harry idly noted that his Servants still stayed between him and their new allies. Apparently they didn't entirely trust the two, even after all this. That, or they were just being over-protective again. Harry figured it was likely the second. The group of seven made their way into the Matou estate, though the doors, and down into the basement. Kiritsugu and Saber nearly vomited when the stench of the worms hit them, but they pressed on down to the pit room. There, they met up with Harry's three Homunculi. Once introduction were done, they all looked down into the pit. There, Zouken was raging, desperately trying to find a way out of the pit, but the bounded field Monica had set up was designed by Caster, and as such was damn near invincible. Harry looked over at Assassin, who was still in her usual position a step behind him and two the left, watching him impassively, awaiting orders.

"Assassin, you know what to do."

"Yes, Master," Assassin replied obediently as she stepped up to the edge of the pit. She stood there for a moment before a strange humming filled the air. The ten people at the top of the pit were unaffected, but inside the pit was a different story. Assassin was utilizing one of her noble phantasms, Ichor of Reverie. It worked by producing a targeted sound that permitted her to take control of or disrupt a foe's magical circuits. On a magus, she could use this to make them do anything from dance to self immolate. On the worms, which were basically living magical circuits, she had complete control to make them do whatever she wished, even ordering them to eat their Master alive. Zouken's screams echoed throughout the chamber as he was eaten alive by his own pets. He couldn't even die as each time he did, his consciousness was transferred to another worm, which the rest would immediately eat. Zouken had to suffer being eaten alive by his worms thousands of times before he was finally down to one.

It tried to flee into a crack in the wall but was stopped by Rider's knife impaling its tail. Harry walked down to it, followed by the entire group. He projected a can of gasoline and a lighter. After thoroughly submersing Zouken in gasoline, he flicked open the lighter, lit it, and tossed it on him. The blaze was absolutely glorious as for the first time since his arrival there, Harry felt at peace. Saber leaned over and whispered an offer in his ear. Looking around the place, Harry realized that the entire mansion held nothing but bad memories. He told Sakura and the Homunculi to grab what possessions they wanted before going and looting his workshop of the things he wanted to take, which wasn't a lot. Everything he took fit into the duffel bag he had projected.

Once everything was sorted, Harry alchemically turned all the air in the mansion into concentrated hydrogen gas, sealed the building, and rigged up a lighter inside to a detonator. He stepped outside with Sakura still clinging to his side. She had not let go for even a second since he had removed the worms. Everyone stood behind the two as he offered her the detonator. She contemplated it for a moment, before letting go of him with one hand, grabbing it, leaning up to kiss him once again, and pressing the trigger. The entire house exploded. Caster placed a bounded field around them to protect everyone from the shrapnel. Hearing sirens in the distance, Harry took Saber up on her whispered offer of asylum at the Emiya estate.

* * *

Back at the Emiya estate, Kiritsugu had offered Harry and Sakura separate rooms before Sakura glared at him murderously and he retracted the offer. He then offered the Homunculi separate rooms with similar results and set up futons next to Harry's bed. As Sakura climbed into bed next to him, naked as she usually slept in the worm pit, Harry realized that this was the first time in his life he had slept in a bed. He had been forced to sleep on the floor of the broom cupboard at the Dursley's and only slept with the worms at the Matou's. Even though Sakura fell asleep next to him, tightly clinging with a beautiful smile, Harry stared at the ceiling, unable to get used to the sensation of sleeping in a bed. Finally, Rider materialized next to him.

"What's wrong, Master? Don't you like the bed?"

"It's not that, it's just, I've never slept in one before." Harry admitted, still staring at the ceiling. He was startled as he felt something warm slide next to him. His eyes widened as he saw Rider in nothing but her blindfold next to him, hugging his arm like Sakura was. He was about to speak up when he felt something warm wrap around his leg. He looked down to see Assassin entirely naked hugging his leg between her breasts looking up at him with a content expression on her face. He was interrupted from his thoughts yet again when Caster deastralized naked next to his other leg and duplicated Assassin's position. Finally, Leanna, Monica, and Joy climbed in beside him and settled in, also all naked. Finally, Harry found his voice.

"What the hell are you all doing?"

Rider somehow conveyed a flat look from behind her blindfold.

"Master, if you can't sleep because you're uncomfortable, then we'll just have to make you comfortable. If climbing in to bed next to you is what it takes then it is our duty as your Servants to do so."

"Besides, I can't sleep without a teddy bear," Rider added teasingly.

"Why are you all naked?"

"Well, in the time Caster, Assassin, and I are from, women don't sleep with undergarments. I suppose with the other three it is just a personal preference." The homunculi nodded in confirmation.

Harry just sighed. He did have to admit, he was _very_ comfortable. Before he even realized it, he'd drifted off to the most peaceful sleep he'd ever had in his life.


	5. Chapter 5: Family Reunion

**I have returned! Neolyph is back readers to bring you a new chapter of the story. Sorry about the long time between updates. I meant to have this out last week, but I just moved and it took like five fucking days to get the internet back on. I couldn't write during that time. For future reference, I'm aiming for weekly updates, but that may vary a bit due to scheduling. I am really impressed with how well this story is doing and I know I've said this before, but I'd like to sincerely thank all of you who read, review, favorite, and follow. You guys are the ones who motivate me to write.**

 **Also, I feel I should note that I did change Illya's age around so that she is ten when the war starts. This is primarily because she's going to Hogwarts at the end of the war. I'll leave it to your own imagination what this age changes in canon history. As I'm much more familiar with Fate/Stay Night than I am with Fate/Zero, I don't know how important that change is. Now to answer some reviews!**

 **Thundramon: Yeah, the story will continue to Hogwarts and beyond. I will also indulge in some Dumbles and Ron bashing. I've always held Dumbledore to be fucking despicable and Ron to be really annoying. Regarding Ginny, I always think people give her too much of a hard time, so yeah, Ginny gets a pass, just like Mrs. Weasley, who I always kind of liked. And yes, I don't think it will be much of a question which house this cold, calculating Harry is going into. Regarding the true magics, yes, Harry will learn the three gradually. He won't instantly master them, but he will have them from Zelretch's interference and the Grail. Oh, and regarding the Homunculi names, they're named off some actual triplets who are friends of mine. Thanks for the idea about the parseltongue, didn't think of that. Saber will join the harem, and I have plans for Kiritsugu. Glad to know you're enjoying the story!**

 **Temsen: Mwahaha... the harem shenanigans shall begin...**

 **Silent Reader: Rin will not be joining the harem. Plotwise, it's because Sakura still holds a grudge against her and is jealous that the Tohsakas kept her while abandoning herself to Zouken. Writing-wise, I'm not including her because I've always felt she was kind of a bitch. For the rest of your questions, read and find out.**

 **The Illusion: Who says Illya is going to kill Kiritsugu? MWAHAHA!**

 **Lupine Horror: Hey! Great to hear from you! Big fan of your work. I do kind of agree that up to this point, the story has been going a bit fast. The main reason for this is that I outlined how I want the war to go and realized that Zouken would not let most of that shit fly. Due to that, I had to rush things a bit to take him out before things started to really heat up. Now that he's out of the equation, I can afford to slow things down a bit. Regarding Kiritsugu and Avalon, Harry made it his business to know everything about the previous war and uncovered information on the excavation the Einzberns did that uncovered Avalon and put two and two together. The rest of his information comes from either Zouken or Zelretch.**

 **Pedo: ...I'm not really sure how to respond to that... In all actuality, I don't know if I'll write true lemons, as I don't know how well I'd write them. We'll see in the future.**

 **Akuma-Heika: Jesus Christ that's a lot of questions. I appreciate the honest questions and criticism, but I don't have time and space to answer all of them. To be broad, most of your questions regarding magic are answered simply that I'm fucking with canon magic so that I will be able to more easily crossover this. Regarding plot inconsistencies with canon, the same applies: I'm fucking with it so I can mesh these two universes a little better.**

 **harlequin320: Yes. Yes he does.**

 **DksDarkstrider: Thanks man. It makes me really happy to hear that.**

 **Caelleh: Thanks, call it low self-esteem. Whats the old saying about all artists hating their work? While I wouldn't exactly call this art, that might just be proving the point. As you'll see in this chapter, the homunculi do get some fleshing out. I always felt unsatisfied with the fates of the Matous in canon, so I decided to change that in this story. Thanks for the support.**

Chapter 5: Family Reunion

* * *

"Sella! Leysritt! I'm going out!"

Just as she finished calling, Illya heard movement in the next room before her maid Sella bustled into the entry hall, looking stern.

"Mistress, it is not my place to tell you what to do, but it is my duty to see to your well-being. I must advise against going out like this, even during the day. Wasn't the original strategy to simply wait for most of the participants to kill each other off and then sweep up the remainder?"

Used to her maid and guardian's stern attitude, llya put on her best "Puppy Dog" eyes, which she used whenever she wanted to something that her Homunculus servant disagreed with. While she loved Sella and Leysritt very much, they were sometimes a bit too protective of her. Now that she wasn't cooped in the Einzbern castle anymore, she wanted to explore the town a bit. After all, no matter how mature her upbringing had made her, she _was_ only ten, and wished to see the world instead of always being cooped in castles and mansions, no matter how luxurious they were.

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease, Sella? It's during the day, and I'll be going to a public park. I just want to make some friends."

With that, she upped the eyes' effect up to eleven, and they began to water. By now, even the most hardened, emotionless solider would be feeling bad, and most would already be cooing at the small, silver-haired girl. Sella for her part just sighed, before finallyrelenting. She knew that whenever her charge was like this, there was no denying her, and a small part of her _did_ agree that she could use some friends.

"Be safe, Mistress."

Illya beamed, the tears instantly disappearing.

"Of course Sella! Even if I'm leaving Berserker behind, there's very little I can't handle!"

With that, the cheerful ten years old skipped out the door towards the nearest park, humming.

* * *

Harry Potter awoke in a dark, unfamiliar place, unable to move. For a brief moment, he panicked, only able to feel some sort of strangely warm restraints on all of his limbs. His head shot up to survey his surroundings, but the room was too dark to make out anything that he could use to comprehend his current situation. He was laying on something oddly soft, but completely foreign to him. It wasn't until he heard a familiar voice mumble in her sleep and the body connected to that voice shift against his arm that he remembered where he was. The Emiya Estate. Because he and Sakura burnt down the Matou estate. Because they finally killed Zouken. Because the worms had been removed from himself and Sakura. Because they were finally free. When that information finally sunk in, he involuntarily fell back down on the bed, which he remembered was the foreign object he was sleeping on. He wasn't too comfortable with the bed itself, it just felt odd, but with seven warm bodies attached to various parts of him, he was strangely comfortable. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he opened them and surveyed his bedmates.

Sakura was innocently holding his left arm, smiling like she was experiencing a pleasure unknown to mankind. He would have reached over to brush her hair, but his right arm was occupied by Rider, who was squishing his arm between her breasts and gently holding on, like a child with a stuffed animal. He was unsure as to whether she was awake or not, on account of the blindfold, but either way she didn't look too keen on getting up.

Looking down, he saw that Assassin was awake, still clutching his leg tightly, the limb having completely disappeared into those squishy watermelons she called breasts. She was looking at him with those cold but simultaneously zealous eyes, filled with unquestioning devotion. He wasn't exactly sure how long she'd been up, but judging from the lack of sleepiness in her eyes, she had been awake for quite some time, if she had even gone to sleep in the first place. Now that he thought about it, she had been in the exact same position staring up at him when he had fallen asleep last night. He genuinely hoped she hadn't stayed up all night watching him, both because he didn't want her to neglect her own well-being in favor of his, and because he wasn't sure how he would react to the knowledge that a centuries-old being, who surpassed mankind in every aspect, spent her time watching him sleep.

He gave his devoted Assassin a brief nod before turning to look at Caster, who was looking every bit the princess she was. The effect was only slightly ruined by the fact that she was naked and holding onto his left leg softly, giving cute little snores. Logically he knew that she was a vicious killer and betrayer, entirely lacking in morals, but like this, completely naked and defenseless, she just looked sweet and innocent.

Looking to his left, he saw that Leanna had stretched herself slightly over Sakura to lay her hand on his bare chest in a comforting sort of way. She was also awake and smiling at him. Despite the homunculi being triplets, Leanna was always viewed by the others as the youngest of the three due to her slightly clumsy and bubbly nature. The only time she acted maturely was when a serious situation arose. When that happened, it was like a switch was flipped and emotion shut off. Her Master was threatened and it was like a cold, calculating machine took her place. Then again, that was true for all the homunculi.

Lying beside Leanna, it appeared that Joy was also awake, in a similar position. Joy was the "middle child" of the three and had a quiet, studious nature. She had an overwhelming love of plants and animals, and had been incredibly disappointed when Zouken had forbidden her to start a garden at the Matou estate. Harry had made it up to her by starting a small hydroponic farm in a corner of his workshop, and she had hugged the stuffing out of him for that. A lot of the ingredients he used for cooking had been grown in that small garden, so it wasn't like it wasn't killing two birds with one stone either.

On his right, still sleeping, Harry saw Monica had stretched over Rider to duplicate her sisters' position, though in a slightly more reserved fashion. Had there been a need to use only two words to describe Monica, they would be "professional" and "mature." As the "oldest" of the three, Monica was given charge of them. When not overseeing them, she served as a sort of secretary/assistant to him when he did research. As the only homunculi capable of magecraft, she was much better suited to the role than her "siblings". Her younger sisters used to joke that if he had been a CEO, she would have been his hyper-competent secretary. Surprisingly, or at least as surprising as it was for someone so serious, her secret vice had always been sweets. Monica had a sweet- tooth that was to be feared. Harry couldn't bake a single batch of cookies without her sweeping in and disappearing with half the batch. Her other passion (with the exception of himself) was books. Monica was a complete bibliophile. You could give her a stack of novels and she'd go through them in a day. The strange thing was that this reading never seemed to interrupt her various duties. Harry has once seen her levitate a book in front of her and read it while perfectly forming a complex array in his workshop. How she managed the focus, he would never know, but it was something impressive, for sure.

Satisfied with his examination of his surrounding, he exchanged greeting nods with Leanna and Joy before searching for a clock. It was hard to see over the various bodies, but the alarm clock on the nightstand read 5:30 A.M. While that was normally the time he woke up, apparently it was not so for most of his bedmates. It was Sakura's first night of true rest in years and he thought she deserved to sleep in without him interrupting it. He motioned towards the clock and the two awake homunculi seemed to get the message. Assassin just continued watching him, but he didn't expect her to go back to sleep, if she had slept in the first place that is. He felt Monica and Joy settle back down and heard their breathing get more regular as sleep finally took them. Finally, he shut his own eyes and returned to his dreams.

* * *

When Harry awoke again, the sun was up and it appeared that all of his bedmates were finally rising. Sakura looked absolutely adorable as she sat up, still instinctively clutching his arm. She blinked a couple times to get the sleepiness out of her eyes and he reached over to brush her bed-head down. Feeling his hand on her head, she seemed to realize he was brushing her hair and blushed up a storm, before smiling contentedly and leaning against his side.

On his other side, Rider also seemed to have woken up. She looked over to him, smiled warmly as she watched him interact with the young Matou, as if reminded of something, and smoothed his own hair affectionately. She leaned over and whispered a "Good morning, Master. Hope you slept well," in his ear before she stepped off the bed and materialized her clothes onto herself before taking up a position beside the bed.

Caster rose up, stretched regally like a cat, and duplicated Rider's action in affectionately smoothing his messy black hair and wishing him good morning before standing, clothing herself, and taking up a position next to Rider.

Assassin, who was _still_ in the same position she had been in last night, released his leg, and in what looked like an attempt to duplicate her two counterparts, smoothed his hair, whispered, "Good morning, my god. I hope you had a most pleasant sleep," to him, stood, and dressed. Not ones to be left behind, Leanna, Monica, and Joy all smoothed his hair, whispered their good mornings, and went to the corner to dress in their maid uniforms. Harry wasn't exactly sure why they wore the maid uniforms. When he had first created and grown them, he had intended for them to simply assist him wearing normal clothes, but Zouken had for some reason insisted that they wore maid outfits, insisting that "lower lifeforms and dolls" had to properly show their subservience to their masters. Ever since then, he had been entirely unable to convince them to wear anything but the French maid uniforms the Matou patriarch had supplied them with. All he could do was alchemically reinforce the materials to make them function about as well as top-of-the-line military Kevlar. He never could figure out why they still wore them when they had taken regular clothes from the estate.

Deciding to let it go, he chuckled as he heard Sakura's stomach let out a slight growl and he was reminded that they were too exhausted last night to eat a proper dinner. Harry figured that since he was a guest, he should repay his host by helping with the chores, especially since Kiritsugu stroke him as the type to live off takeout food. He stood with Sakura, motioned his Servants to follow him, and went to cook a massive breakfast. His Servants eagerly followed, knowing what was in store.

* * *

Kiritsugu Emiya awoke to the smell of cooking food. He was very confused, as he had never known Saber to cook, though truthfully, he actually knew very little about her other than her identity as a king. It wasn't until he had cautiously made his way to the kitchen that he remembered his guests. Standing in his kitchen were Harry and Sakura. The kid, who had somehow ended up contracting _three_ Servants, was throwing ingredients around like a master chef, and the smell was enough to make his mouth water. Beside the young cook, Sakura was taking the food he was rapidly producing and plating it with the ease of a regular routine. At the table, six people were sitting, eagerly watching the proceedings. Still focused on his task, Harry nonetheless addressed him.

"Good morning, Mr. Emiya. I hope you don't mind my making use of your kitchen. I figured I could cook as a thanks for your hospitality."

"Uhh... that's quite alright Harry. Just call me Kiritsugu by the way. Where did you get the ingredients for all this? I don't cook a lot, so the only real thing I had on hand was a lot of frozen meat..."

"Oh, I specialize in alchemy. I just went outside and transmuted some plants in your yard into the ingredients I needed."

He sweatdropped at Harry's casual admission to something most experienced alchemists would consider _very_ difficult. Not only that, but most of them would scream that the casual use of the noble art of alchemy for the menial use of creating _food_ was heresy, but then again most Magi had odd quirks, although Harry seemed to have more than most.

"I see. Thank you kid. I must admit, I am not a particularly good cook, and it is one of many things Saber resents me for. If you're willing to cook, I would be most honored to enjoy your meal."

At the mention of her name, Saber wandered in, seemingly in a trance at the smell of Harry's heavenly cooking. It was rather comical really, like in a cartoon when a character smells a pie or something and they levitate towards the smell a foot off the ground. As she took her place at the table, a sound like a fork stuck in a garbage disposal filled the room. Harry's six Servants leapt up into defensive positions around him. Everyone glanced around the room tensely before all their eyes landed on the blushing Saber still sitting at the table, holding her stomach.

"When will the food be ready?" she said shyly.

Harry just stared at her for a moment before chuckling.

"It just finished Saber. My apologies for interrupting your dinner last night, I hope that this breakfast will make up for it."

Saber just blushed further as Harry brought out breakfast dish after breakfast dish and piled them onto the table. Saber immediately piled a truly impressive stack of pancakes onto her plate and set into them like a starving wolf. The rest of the Servants took similar portions but ate at a more sedate pace. Noticing Harry's amused glance, Saber once again blushed and looked down, embarrassed, and meekly offered:

"Hunger is the enemy?"

* * *

Kiritsugu sat at the table watching the various people at the table tease Saber. It was all good hearted, sort of like what a family would do at a dinner table. He took the moment to examine the various people Harry associated with. The Servants had been astralized for most of the previous night and the homunculi were occupied most of the night, so he hadn't really had the chance to get a feel for any of them. The three homunculi were easiest to identify. He'd heard their names, but he couldn't tell which was which. They were three seductive beauties, with pale skin, massive breasts, shoulder length black hair the same color as Harry's that fell off their heads like a wave, and were all wearing maid uniforms. One was occupied with making fun of Saber, a second was eating quietly and watching the conversations amused, and the third was reading a book with one hand while eating with the other.

The boy's Servants were more interesting. The first, Rider, was an ethereal beauty. She had long purple hair, like Sakura, and was wearing something that looked out of a BDSM magazine. Her other unique features were the odd blindfold she wore and the archaic symbol on her forehead. Between her outfit and her smooth, seductive voice, he got the sense that she was a very dangerous individual to provoke, and she seemed to have firmly attached herself to Harry. Every movement she made had the predatory grace of something inhuman accustomed to killing. Despite all that, she seemed to be rather calm at the moment, so he just made a mental note not to threaten Harry in her vicinity. It cut a sharp contrast between her appearance and the fact that she was occupied with joining one of the homunculi in ribbing Saber.

The second Servant was apparently Caster. She was wearing a robe with a hood, which was currently down. She looked like a princess, with light blue hair and strangely enough, pointed ears. She was eating elegantly and making polite conversation where she could. It seemed Saber wasn't the only royalty at the table. One of the things that had helped Kiritsugu in his line of work was his ability to read people, a very useful skill that had saved him a lot of trouble more than once. It was a tremendously useful skill to have in his line of work, but even with all his experience, this woman in front of him was totally unreadable. It was like she was some sort of professional liar or deceiver. He just knew that if she put her talents to something like being a con artist, she could probably bankrupt Japan within a couple days. Ironically, despite the obvious air of betrayal and deceit the woman gave off, she was the least bloodthirsty looking of the boy's Servants.

It was perhaps the boy's third Servant though that was most unnerving to him. Standing at Harry's left shoulder was Servant Assassin. Harry had tried to get her to sit down and eat, but she had adamantly refused, something about "it not being a slave's place." Eventually, the boy had just sighed and allowed her to take her usual post at his left shoulder. Kiritsugu took a moment to get a good look at the enigmatic woman, and he had to admit, she was a wet dream walking. She was tall, with shoulder length black hair, like the homunculi, but it was as if someone had materialized a patch of darkness to use as their hair. It seemed to drink in the light around it. She was wearing a low cut dress that barely contained her stupidly large breasts, that despite their size, did not seem to sag in the least. Honestly, he had learned over his many years to completely suppress his sexual desires through his mercenary training, but even he couldn't help but stare at this woman's chest. What unnerved him most about this woman though was the look in her eyes. She had the look of one who had been broken beyond all repair and somehow restored. The way she looked at Harry held nothing but untold zeal. Just by looking at her, he could tell she would do literally _anything_ Harry told her to. That kind of devotion in a person was a scary thing. That kind of devotion in a Servant, a being that any one of which could likely single-handedly take out every magus in the world combined? Kiritsugu was legitimately terrified of what this woman could do if Harry let her off the leash. He just made a mental note to _never_ insult Harry in this woman's presence. Yeah, Rider and Caster would likely kill him painfully, as would the homunculi unless Harry called them the five of them off, but this woman wouldn't just kill him. She would drag it out for years and years on Harry's orders without question or doubt. So yeah, he made sure to be careful around this woman.

He was interrupted from his thought as he realized that Saber had stolen his entire plate when he wasn't looking. Foodless, he resigned himself to stealing a bit or two when he could. Upon tasting Harry's food, he resolved that he would never cook for himself again. Kiritsugu was the sort who burned water when he cooked. He hadn't even known cooking like this could exist. He must secure a steady supply of this food!

* * *

Harry walked down the sidewalk in a residential section of Fuyuki. After breakfast, he'd had a strategy meeting with Kiritsugu. After working out a plan of cooperation, Harry went out to scout for the final master. Since it was a stealth mission, he had left Rider and Caster to reluctantly stay behind at the Emiya estate while he took Assassin out scouting. He took Assassin because with the level of power she'd been summoned at, her presence concealment could keep Gaia itself from finding her if she dialed it up enough, which made her perfect for a stealth mission. Between her presence concealment and his ability to clamp down on his prana leakage, nobody would be able to tell he was an enemy master. Though impassive as normal, he noted that even Assassin seemed conflicted between what he imagined to be a desire to have all his Servants protecting him while also having a desire for some alone time with him.

Apparently, the first desire won out as she gave him a somewhat reluctant look when they first set out. For the usually inexpressive Assassin, that said quite a lot. Regardless, she dutifully followed after him, taking her usual position a step behind him and to the right. Though she was astralized and as such he couldn't truly see her, her presence bolstered him.

He had decided to set out at nine thirty AM under the logic that few Masters would start a fight in broad daylight, so even if Berserker's Master noticed him, he would have time to escape. He honestly didn't think he was going to find anything in this nice little suburb, but he could detect the faintest amounts or prana in the air. Following it with Assassin in tow, he finally came upon a park. The park was a small one, just a couple swings, a slide, some monkey bars, and some grassy area for moms to take their children to play. The park was mostly deserted with the exception of a small, white haired girl with red eyes sitting melancholic on a swing. Harry instantly recognized her for what she was: a homunculus. He had plenty experience with them after all. From the prana this girl was leaking, he didn't think it a coincidence she was a homunculus in the middle of the Grail War. He had a sneaking suspicion that this girl was the Master he had been seeking out. Normally, he'd have approached to make a deal or simply ordered Assassin to take out the Master since her Servant didn't seem to be nearby, but this girl was his age. The lonely look on her face reminded his of what his own had looked like with the Dursleys all those years ago. It was the face of someone facing the world alone and losing. Steeling himself, he took a seat on the swing next to the girl.

* * *

Illya had skipped all the way out of her castle to the city of Fuyuki. It was only upon arriving there that it occurred to her that she had no idea how to find or make friends. Her upbringing had been focused solely on her studies of Magecraft, and on how to act as an Einzbern, so she just started wandering around, feeling somewhat lonely without Berserker there. Normally she took him everywhere, but even astralized, he radiated so much bloodlust that nobody would get within a hundred yards of her when she brought him anywhere. Since the mission was making friends, she elected to leave him behind. She had been wandering for nearly an hour before she found what she was looking for: a park! The park was currently empty, but she was just sure that if she waited long enough, other kids would come along and she could make friends! Just the thought made her feel excited!

* * *

Making friends was apparently harder than Illya thought. She had been waiting at this park for what felt like two hours and nobody had come along! She was about to move along and try a new place when she heard the swing next to her rattle. Looking to her right, a boy her age had sat next to her. He was a couple inches taller than her, with a thin but strong build, hair the color of night marred only by a streak of purple, looking like a comet streaking across a starless sky, circular glasses, and warm green eyes that seemed to look right through her. He smiled warmly at her and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"Hi! My name is Harry! What's yours?"

Illya smiled as she knew she'd finally found her friend.

"Hi Harry! I'm Illyasviel von Einzbern! It's a pleasure to meet you!" Harry watched as the young homunculus hopped off the swing, stepped in front of him, and gave her introduction while curtsying formally. He just chuckled at the girl's obvious lack of knowledge of childhood norms. Another part of his brain registered that this girl was apparently the Einzbern representative of the war. Why exactly they sent a ten years old, he didn't know, but he would find out.

"So Illya, what are you doing out her all by yourself?"

The girl looked down sadly and quietly replied.

"I just got to this town. Where I used to live, there wasn't really anybody around, so I didn't have any friends. Then I came here, so I decided to go out and make some."

Harry just smiled at her and took her hand.

"Alright then, I am going to be your friend Illya! Come on let's go play together!"

With that, he dragged her away from the swings and towards the rest of the park.

* * *

Illya was having the best day of her life! Even though she had been really sad when nobody was at the park, she had waited patiently and sure enough a boy had arrived to be her friend! Big Brother was the best! Though when they had started playing in the park she politely called him Harry, he was just so warm and kind and caring that by the time they left the park and went to something called an "arcade," she had already subconsciously started addressing him like an older sibling.

After the arcade, which was amazing, Harry took her to something called a "burger joint" where she ate a "burger" and it was amazing! It wasn't the fine cuisine the Einzbern homunculi made, but something about the greasy, unhealthy food just appealed to her and she ate a whole three of them! She had initially been embarrassed, but Big Brother Harry had just laughed it off and patted her on the head affectionately.

The only thing that had spoiled the day somewhat was that Big Brother had slipped up with his long sleeves and with her eyes and the fact that she was the Lesser Grail, she saw that he had command seals on his arm. She had initially been very angry and planned to kill him for daring playing with her feelings, but growing up in the serpent's den that was Castle Einzbern, she knew when someone was tricking her and whether or not it was malicious. She couldn't pick up an ounce of hostility from Big Brother and she trusted him, so she decided she would let it slide, knowing that he would explain in due time, and that if he didn't, she could always ask him.

* * *

Finally, at about 4:00 PM, she and Harry ended up back at the park they had met in. Sitting side by side on the swings, Harry spoke up.

"Illya, can I make a confession?"

She smiled, already having a good idea about what he wanted to say, and felt relieved that he hadn't misjudged him.

"Of course Big Brother. You can tell me anything."

"Will you promise not to freak out?"

Her smile widened, it was nice to have someone who cared enough about her to try and ease her into something, instead of adopting the "sink or swim" approach prevalent in the Eizbern castle.

"I promise, Big Brother."

He chuckled and held out his little finger towards her.

"Pinky promise?" he said, grinning.

She reached out and wrapped her own finger around his,

"Pinky promise."

He sat there for just a moment before finally saying it.

"I'm a magus, and I know you are too."

"I know."

He blinked, looking at her.

"You knew?"

"Of course Big Brother. When we were in the burger place, your sleeve slipped up and I saw your command seals."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I trust you, Big Brother. You are one of the first people in my life to have been kind to me. Ever since Kiritsugu left and mom died, the only people around me either hate me, see me as a tool, or view me as a burden."

Harry gently reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. It was a moment before another part of that statement registered in his mind.

"Wait, Illya, did you say Kiritsugu? As in Kiritsugu Emiya?"

Illya's eyes hardened. How did he know that much? Of course, her father was rather infamous, but she doubted that Harry was old enough to have been warned about him, especially since Kiritsugu had disappeared when they had barely been old enough to study Magecraft.

"Yes. What of it?"

"How exactly do you know him?"

"He's my father."

Harry almost fell off his swing, but kept his composure. Kiritsugu was the Eizbern's representative's _father_? And given her reaction to his name, it was obvious she held a grudge against him.

"If he's your father, why did he leave?"

Illya's glare deepened, looking as if she was attempting to burn a hole straight through the ground to wherever Kiritsugu was.

"I have no idea. That bastard just up and abandoned me after he killed mom."

"He killed your mother? Why?"

"He didn't directly kill her, but he was responsible. Grandfather told me so. That's why I've come to this city. To kill him."

At the mention of "Grandfather" Harry became suspicious. You didn't get to be the head of a magus clan without becoming a straight manipulative bastard. Zouken was proof enough of that.

"Illya, I don't know your grandfather, but I do know his type. I spent five years as a ward of the Matous. Zouken was the most manipulative bastard I've ever met. I don't mean to call your grandfather a liar, but I do know Kiritsugu Emiya. He doesn't seem the type to do something like that, not without at least a very good reason. I'll make you a deal. I'm currently staying at the Emiya estate. Come back with me, and I'll sit you down with him and you can ask him all the questions you want. If it will help, I'll even have Caster write up a geass scroll to prevent him from lying. If you're not completely satisfied with his answers, you can summon your Servant and kill him."

Illya thought the offer for a moment before finally nodding and taking Harry's hand. It was perfect! The day just kept getting better and better! Never had she imagined that she would be able to see Kiritsugu so fast, nor that she would be able to get some answers as to why he had abandoned her. She was not stupid, even if she was convinced that he had left her, she had grown up in an environment that made it easy for her to see the interest in getting some straight answers instead of just killing him.

"Thanks Big Brother. Let's go confront dad!"

* * *

At the Kiritsugu estate, Caster got a strange message from her Master. Following his orders, she went to Kiritsugu's room and knocked. There was some shuffling on the other side of the door before it opened to reveal a coughing Kiritsugu Emiya, looking ill.

"What is it? Oh, Caster. Can I help you?"

"I'm going to come right out with it Emiya. Do you have a daughter named Illya?"

Kiritsugu choked for a moment on his coughing, not having expected that question.

"Yes," he answered cautiously, "Why?"

"I just got a message from Master. Apparently he met up with her and learned that she's the Einzbern representative and has her heart set on killing you. He suspects that the Einzbern patriarch has poisoned her mind with lies to get her to participate in this war. She has agreed to meet with you under the condition that you sign a geass scroll guaranteeing your truthfulness during the meeting."

He was stunned. His daughter was here? In the Grail War? And hated him?

It took him a moment to reply, but when he did, it was as if some life had returned to him despite the curse eating away at him. He had always regretted being unable to get Illya, despite his best efforts he had been blocked at every turn by the Eizbern family, who had not forgiven him from wasting their chance to get the Grail. So if he could finally see his daughter, he was going to take that chance, and would tell her the full truth. If she still wished to kill him afterwards, then so be it, at least he would have seen her one last time, which was more than he could have hoped for.

"Of course. Write the scroll up and I'll sign it in front of her."

* * *

It was 5:30 by the time Harry returned to the Emiya estate with Illya and her two homunculi maids in tow. She had insisted on stopping by her castle to pick them up for protection. He didn't bother to attempt to dissuade her as it was a safe thing to do, and if there was one thing he knew about magi, it was that they were paranoid. The maids seemed to be generally good people, if a little suspicious of him. Then again, they were entitled to be suspicious of those near their charge. He walked in the front door into the dining room where his Servants ambushed him to hug him, check him over for injuries, and just generally fuss over him. He just patiently permitted them to do it, knowing it made them feel better about his going out. Illya coughed awkwardly before he remembered his manners and introduced his Servants. His new friend gawked at the fact that her "Big Brother" had _three_ Servants, which should have left him as a dried husk due to the amount of prana necessary to maintain their existence, but also at the fact that they were not only maintained, but were also being given ludicrous amounts of power by a human boy her age. She herself had trouble maintaining Berseker, despite the augmentations made to her circuits by the Eizberns. The amount that Harry was giving his Servants was almost the double of what she herself could use, and she was in Magus' terms, a prana battery! Add to that the fact that Harry had created three homunculi of a quality that matched, if not surpassed, her own, and she was in awe of her new friend.

The group made small-talk for a few moments, while Caster showed the scroll to Illya, who examined it for good measure, before Kiritsugu came stumbling in, looking in shock at the sight of the daughter he'd been forced to abandon. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to rush forward, envelope her in his arms, and never let her go. He restrained himself based on the suspicious look she was throwing at him. It seemed that Harry had not lied. At least he'd been able to talk her down from outright murder to suspicion and questioning.'

"Hello, sweetie," he said awkwardly.

"Hello, Kiritsugu," she greeted coldly. He winced at hearing that tone of voice from his daughter, especially the way she was addressing him. It seemed that she hated him enough to not call him Father or Dad anymore, not that he could begrudge her for that. He hadn't exactly been the best father around, after all.

"Look, sweetie, I know I've made a lot of mistakes in life. I want to make it up to you. To start with, I'm going to sign this geass scroll Caster gave me. Then we can talk in the other room."

With that, he took out a pen and signed the bottom of the paper Caster had produced. The parchment glowed for a moment before settling down and Kiritsugu felt the geass weigh down on his brain, compelling him to not lie.

"Let's go into here sweetie, and we can talk."

He motioned towards a side room and opened the door. Illya spared one last look at Harry, hugged him, and then followed after her father, determined to get answers.

* * *

With Illya and Kiritsugu gone, Harry started on dinner. Sakura came in after hearing the commotion, gave her own hug, scolded him for not informing her that he was back and for going out in the first place, and started helping him cook.

Eventually, the smell caused Saber to levitate out of her room again, but Kiritsugu and Illya remained in the study. Even after everyone had eaten their fill, he had cleaned up, wrapped up some leftovers for the father and daughter, and prepared for bed there was still no indication of them coming out of that room and her two maids had taken up positions outside the door. He sent Assassin to stealthily check on them and she confirmed that they were both crying and yelling and hugging each other. His concerns put at ease, he went back into the bedroom where everyone was preparing for bed. Right as everyone was about to climb into bed, the door opened and Illya walked in, eyes red and puffy from crying. Then her eyes locked on him, and she almost stumbled in her haste to wrap him in one of the tightest hugs he had ever gotten, all the way crying in his chest and thanking him profusely.

Eventually, she stopped crying, and he was shocked as she started stripping down for bed. Apparently, Kiritsugu had offered her another guest room but she had insisted on sleeping with "Big Brother" (he could almost _feel_ Kiritsugu's glare on his back, the man most likely would _kill_ him if he did anything to his daughter), and, for some reason unknown to him, seemed to share the lack of concern about by almost naked with a male in the same room than the other females in his life.

She was slightly put off by the number of people she would have to share a bed with, but after considering that he had convinced her to hear her father out and because of that they completely reconciled, she decided to put up with it. As she was smaller than both Harry and Sakura, she squeezed in between himself and Rider, though she still didn't take up a lot of space. Aside from that, the sleeping positions remained the same as they had been the previous night. As Assassin clicked the light off, it wasn't long before the loving warmth all around him drove Harry into a deep sleep, ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.


	6. Chapter 6: Midnight in the Garden

**Greeting once again readers! As an apology for the delay last chapter, I am starting this one a bit earlier than usual. I am delighted to know that all of you are enjoying this story. I would also like to once again thank my beta, Arawn D Draven for helping me on that last chapter. Between the draft I sent him and the draft he sent back, he somehow added about a thousand words, so I would like to thank him for correcting my rookie mistakes and helping me add some detail here and there. As always, thanks to all of you who read, review, favorite, and follow! So now, to answer some reviews!**

 **Thundramon: Nope, Harry's parents are completely dead. Regarding Harry's manipulation, just about any magus from the Clocktower could manipulate circles around Malfoy Sr. anytime or Dumbledore if he underestimates them. Harry himself, with his natural predisposition towards manipulation and having been tutored by Zouken? Well... you can imagine how that's going to go down.**

 **AnimeA55Kicker: It's funny you should bring up Sekirei...**

 **madcow360: The two main reasons I made Illya ten are because 1. I intend for her to go to Hogwarts with Harry and Sakura and 2. I needed her to be young enough that she is able to trust Harry. I couldn't picture an Illya with four more years with Grandpa Einzbern being amendable to talking it out with Kiritsugu. I will probably have something happen at least between Harry and the Flamels. I will ramp up the stakes a bit for Harry so that he doesn't just steamroll the Potterverse. Thanks for the ideas on potential ways to do that.**

 **Squadpunk 2.0: What can I say, I've always loved that gag. As for the other issue, well Harry is a master alchemist for a reason...**

 **Rakjo: He's going to have to alchemically enlarge it pretty soon.**

 **Have a Little Feith: Illya is not going to be joining the harem. She's just going to be a clingy, sociopathic little sister. Also, Kiritsugu would rather shoot Harry than marry his daughter to him, whether he likes him or not, Kiritsugu is a very overprotective father.**

 **Roxas902: 1. (see reply to AnimeA55Kicker) 2. Well, you'll just have to wait and see.**

 **Lupine Horror: Might be a bit longer in this war than that, but yeah, I'm aiming to finish this up and be in Potterverse within 3-4 chapters. As for Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, I think Ginny had her heart in the right place, but was sort of screwed by circumstances up till the end, not to mention she's the youngest girl with like six older brothers. Regarding Mrs. Weasley, yeah she has her occasional moment of bitchiness, but she is also a very kind, motherly figure. If you had to manage the Weasley family, wouldn't you be a bit overbearing? Maybe it's because I'm southern, but she kind of reminds me of most of my family.**

 **cardo078: Glad to know you agree on both counts.**

 **xYuukito: I hope I'm able to keep the schedule, but who knows?**

 **Im a guest: That's a pretty basic summary of the negotiations, lol.**

 **Pedo: I might be able to work some limes in, but I don't know. I suppose I did make this story M-rated for a reason after all. The setup I'm going to go for post-war is Hogwarts during the school year, dimension hopping during summer and breaks.**

 **Silent reader: Rin will be Harry's ally and maybe eventually friend and she and Sakura may reconcile, but she won't be joining the harem. Also, I don't know about the servants. Maybe in future sections.**

 **Guest: Yes, Shirou was Sakura's weakness, but her love was also the only thing keeping her sane. Had she completely lost it, Mainyu would have taken over eventually and fucked everyone up.**

 **Akuma-Heika: There are two reasons for that. The first is that I was trying to think up how I would write her and I couldn't stop drawing parallels to Akitsu from Sekirei. The second is that I mentioned that to a friend of mine who I was bouncing ideas off at the time and he showed me some deviantart he was making of an OC who looked a hell of a lot like Akitsu so I used the OC's appearance for Assassin's. Not to mention, she's an Assassin, she probably has some ability that works like HP metamorphism and can look like whoever the hell she wants.**

Chapter 6: Midnight in the Garden

Harry Potter awoke in a bright, strangely familiar place. He reflexively tried to examine his surroundings but the bright light surrounding him hardly allowed him to do so, therefore he was forced to quickly close his eyes lest he be blinded.

 _Okay, so sight is out_ , he thought with a grimace. _Might as well check if the other senses are useless too._

Slowly, Harry began letting od flow through his body. He sent it to his nose, his ears, and his skin, reinforcing his senses as much as he could to make up for the lack of visual information.

On his skin, he felt that he was lying on what felt like soft dirt, or maybe sand. Whatever it was, it was slightly damp and rather comfortable, all things considered so he could consider himself lucky that wherever he was, he hadn't ended lying on sharp rocks, that wouldn't nearly as pleasant.

Taking a deep breath, he was assaulted by countless scents, all of them flooding his sense of smell due to his massive reinforcement of his nose. He could smell the crisp aroma that clean running water let off, he smelled trees filled with fruits, he smelled flowers, hundreds of flowers, and he smelled woodland creatures. With that, it was rather easy for him to deduce that he was either in a forest, or very close to one, probably no farther than a few dozen feet.

He then focused on his hearing, and immediately, he could make out the faintest sounds, although thankfully, the louder ones didn't cause him intense pain like they should have. All around him, he heard the rushing of a river, the swaying of trees in the wind, the calls of birds, the chatter of squirrels, the howls of wolves. These sounds further impressed the idea of a forest and from the location of the water all around, it sounded like he was on an island cut from the earth by rivers on all sides. Feeling that his eyes had adjusted enough to the light around him, he squinted them open, ready to close them again should the need arise. Not feeling the searing pain of last time, he opened them a bit further, until they were finally fully open.

He looked forward and was confused as to why his vision was filled with patches of green and blue. Green, he could understand, he was supposed to be in a forest, but what kind of tree was _blue?_ It was then he remembered that he was lying down and was staring at the sky through treetops. Berating himself for his forgetfulness, he sat up and was struck dumb by what laid in front of him, for in what he was seeing was the most perfect forest he had ever seen. It was the very image of nature and beauty, with trees that seemed to flow all around him, all individually different, but equally perfect. Every tree bore fruits of all kinds, from apples to pears, and even to oranges, and weaving between the trees were flowers of every type.

Harry could just imagine Joy having an orgasm at the sheer sight of so many varied types of flowers in the same place. He could identify quite a few of the flowers, but some were entirely unfamiliar to him, and others he was rather certain were extinct. Flying through the air and resting on the trees and flowers were birds and butterflies, all once again equally present, regardless of familiarity or extinction. He discovered that the source of his earlier blindness was the fact that this place was the very image of perfection as the midday sun was in a cloudless sky, and since he had been laying down, when he had opened his eyes he had been staring straight at the sun, so it was hardly a surprise he had been blinded.

Hearing a rustling sound nearby, he froze as the biggest wolf he had ever seen came out of the nearby bushes. Had he been standing, this wolf still would have stood at least a foot above his shoulders, making it at the very least six to seven feet tall. Had he not been concerned for his life, he would have noted that this midnight black wolf was, like everything else in this forest, the very image of perfection, without a single scar or imperfection visible, despite wildlife always resulting in such signs in animals, especially predators like wolves.

As he _was_ concerned, Harry did what most children would have done in this circumstance: freeze and hope it went away. His hopes were dashed as, faster than he could blink, the massive animal charged and pounced on his still sitting form, essentially tackling his and pinning him to the ground. Unable to move to defend himself, he scrunched his eyes shut, while desperately struggling to lift it off him, to little effect despite his reinforced limbs. Having expected to die a very painful and messy death, his confusion was therefore quite natural when instead of teeth closing around his neck, he felt a tongue glide across his face. Once it happened again, he opened his eyes to find the direwolf, he remembered the name of the extinct species, licking his face like an enthusiastic dog finally seeing its master after a great many years of absence. Not really having much experience with dogs, and even less with giant wolves acting like lovesick puppies, he simply did what he thought was natural and started petting it on the head. This seemed to appease the animal as it finally let up on its licking and backed off a bit, panting, its' tongue lolling from its' mouth as it watched Harry with an expression that seemed to be close to happiness. He attempted to crawl out from under the wolf, but it was still laying on his legs and thus he was still pinned. Unsure of what to do, he took a shot in the dark.

"Uhh, heel?" he said hesitantly. He was surprised it actually worked when the wolf leaned forward to give his face on last lick before getting off him and sitting at his side, looking up at him expectantly. Slowly he stood and took a step forward, the wolf following him.

Deciding that the giant lupine was not a threat for the moment, he focused on his other concern: figuring out where the hell he was, since he didn't remember doing anything warranting him ending up in a forest. By listening to the river surrounding the island he was on, he figured out that he was on the Western side of it. Based on that, he began working his way toward the center.

When he noticed that the wolf, which did in fact stand about a foot over his ten years old form, was still at his side, he decided that he might as well name it. He considered a couple names, but they all leaned toward one gender or he wasn't sure of the lupine's gender, he was not about to check, even if so far nothing indicated the animal might hurt him, he was not going to take chances. Looking at the wolf's fur, he finally decided on something at least a little gender-neutral.

"I'm going to call you Midnight. What do you think?"

He got his reply when the wolf once again pounced and enthusiastically started licking his face. _Well then, I guess this means "yes",_ he dryly thought, while he was busy trying to get the enthusiastic animal to stop covering his face and upper body in drool.

After wrestling Midnight off him, he continued his trip towards the center of the island, the wolf trotting behind him. Normally, the thick undergrowth should have impeded him, but it all seemed to bend out of his way when he approached, as if making a path for him, something that he did not miss, as it was _not_ normal.

Ignoring all the oddities of this forest, he finally made it to the center, and was once again awestruck. He was standing in a massive clearing, which practically sparkled before him, as cliché as it sounded.

On the far side of the clearing was a pond, which actually did sparkle with its crystal clean waters, teeming with fish and life, while in the northern part of the clearing, was a large apple tree that gave him a strange sense of foreboding, like he shouldn't approach it. In the southern part was an old, ruined archway with a doorway built into it, the monument giving off an even darker feeling than the tree. Harry noted that despite the air being filled with birds and butterflies, none of them went near either the tree or the archway, as if feeling the malignant aura surrounding them. In the western portion, nearest to Harry, was what looked like a large vegetable patch, containing every type of farmable plant imaginable. He was confused by some of the plants as they seemed to resemble the experiments he had seen of some magi that experimented with organic matter and mutated plants. For example, he could have sworn that upon seeing him, one of the vines on a plant in the field _waved_ at him, despite how impossible it sounded. What was probably the most prominent feature of the field a raised platform in the center with what looked like a duplicate of his workshop, but improved and refined into any Magus' wet dream. The old workbench he'd alchemically reinforced looked like a master artisan had redesigned it to be more efficient, while the small forge he had built had been turned into a massive furnace with tools for shaping matter all around it, said tools almost sparkling in the light, brand new and only waiting for someone to use them.

He was about to go towards the workshop, when he felt a strange calling in his mind. The feeling was compelling him to approach the tree in the north, despite his every instinct warning him to stay away from it. Curiosity peaked, he started cautiously walking towards it, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. When he started nearing it, Midnight started whimpering and trying to edge him away from it. Ignoring why the wolf was afraid of the tree, he pressed on,although it was made harder by the animal's effort to stir him away. Nonetheless, he eventually reached the tree, and took a good look at it. While everything else in the forest was the very image of perfection, this tree looked gnarled and worn, though still strong, making it stand out like a sore thumb in the mini-paradise he was in. Oddly, despite its old appearance, from its branches hung the most enticing apples he had ever seen, fruits he could tell were large and juicy, despite the tree's sinister appearance. The branches swayed in the wind and one of them bent enough to dangle one of the apples right before him, as if offering it. He reached up and plucked it, causing the branch to sway back into place. He looked over the apple, and seeing no imperfection took a tentative bite. If he was dreaming, as he thought he was, despite how realistic everything was, then he would be fine, and if he wasn't, well his body was currently reinforced, which should allow him to neutralize most lesser toxins, or slow down the effects of the most powerful ones.

Pain, he knew nothing but pain. It was as if someone had replaced his circuits with hot lava. The only pain he could even relatively compare to it was when Zouken had been teaching him to activate his circuits and, not understanding what the old man meant, he had accidentally turned one of his nerves into a circuit. This felt like that, but instead of it just being the arm, he felt the pain in every fiber of his body. He would have blacked out from the pain, but he didn't seem to be able to.

Eventually, the pain faded, leaving him panting and sweaty on the ground, shivers racking his body as it tried to recover from whatever had happened to it. As he laid on the ground recovering, a sound made him look up, and his eyes fell on a blonde woman, who seemed to be wearing a simple toga. Had he been a Christian, he would have mistaken her for the archangel Gabriel, but as he wasn't, he instead racked his brain, mentally coming up with a list of possibilities based on the fact that he was in the mother of all gardens and took a shot in the dark.

"Gaia."

The woman smiled warmly, reached down, cupped his cheek, and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Yes, my child."

"Your child? I am human. Shouldn't you hate me?"

It made _no sense._ From what Zouken had taught him and Sakura, Gaia was the representation of the will of the planet, a being that had made it clear through its' actions that it wanted mankind _gone_ , or at least nowhere near as numerous as they currently were. It had even reached for the Type-Moon to cull the human population, as well as created Primate Murder, a being whose single purpose was to kill as many humans as possible. Based on that, the general consensus of any "sane" Magus, was that whenever they crossed paths with a being even _remotely_ influenced by Gaia, it was better to run, and run fast.

As if amused by his question, the woman smiled, an indulgent smile, like the ones seen on the face on adults whenever they were trying to explain something to their children.

"You are a being of Earth, and are therefore my child. I am Gaia, I am the creator of all, including humanity, and as such I do not hate mankind. I only occasionally discipline them as a mother disciplines a misbehaving child. I only take action to keep the human race from destroying the planet, and therefore itself. The reason I am speaking to you, my child, is that the planet faces a great threat in this war you are partaking in. When you first stepped in this world, I saw your potential to avert this catastrophe and named you my champion. Why do you think the ability to create has come so easily to you? Why do you think you have such a desire to protect those close to you? It is because your mother is the great creator, and the great protector. When I made you my champion, I set you apart from humanity, and above them.

The reason I have involved myself in this way, is because inside your soul you bear a great curse. This curse, if unleashed, will destroy all creation, destroying not only mankind, but _everything_ I created, twisting it and corrupting it until there is nothing but a barren desert left. As the curse represents the entirety of man's evils, the only way to eliminate it if it fully manifested would be to completely eradicate mankind. Naturally, Alaya would oppose that and we would be forced to war. If we warred, all of my children would suffer. To prevent that from happening, I found a child in another world who would fit the needed role and ensured that they were transported here. Zelretch may have thought he was acting himself, but he was but the agent of my will, bringing you to this dimension. When he did so, I gifted you with the tools necessary to deal with the threat, as I have chosen you to remove this threat, and I shall not allow you to fail."

Harry was feeling faint. He was currently discussing with a being who, if history was to be believed, wanted nothing more than to limit mankind's expansion and numbers, a being that so far no Magus had ever met. To accurately sum up his mental state at the moment, he was feeling a mix of wonder and utter _terror_ , for he was listening to a being incomprehensibly powerful and incredibly ancient, something that saw humans as little more than ants.

"My time grows short. All you need do to speak with me again is come to this tree in your sleep. I shall know you wish to speak, and meet you here. Also, now that you are aware of your "heritage" as it is, it will no longer be suspicious if I don't erode your magical projections. Anything you project shall be fully formed and shall not erode until you wish it. Do _not_ abuse this gift. That is my final blessing until you finish this task. Be safe, my child."

With that final message, she kissed his head and the burning sensation he had been feeling returned in full. This time he did black out.

-Break-

Harry awoke again to a heavy feeling on his chest shaking him and wet drops dropping on his face. Shaking himself awake, he could see that Sakura was straddling his chest, shaking his shoulders while calling to him desperately, and crying. Not quite understanding _why_ she was acting as such, but unwilling to keep silent when she was clearly distressed, he reflexively reached up and pulled her down into a hug.

The hug was tightened when Rider apparently joined in, followed by Illya, then by Assassin, then Caster, then Leanna, then Monica, then finally Joy. Each addition to group-hug made it tighter, and it was quite awkward for Harry to be in the middle of a group of females, most of them beautiful and naked, while they were holding him in a death grip and pressing certain "squishy" parts against his body. Fortunately for him, after a few minutes of this treatment, they relaxed the hold they had on him.

After extracting himself from his Servants' hugs and massive... extremities, by the Root he prayed this wasn't the onset of hormones, he leaned back to confront Sakura on her crying, which she hadn't let up on, although now it was more sobbing quietly than openly crying. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he reached up and wiped a tear from her eye.

"What's wrong, Sakura?"

The question was apparently enough to open the dam, as she started frantically babbling while desperately checking him over for injuries, her fingers touching every available piece of his body, almost as if she was checking his body parts weren't going to suddenly turn to dust or disappear. Seeing that she was working herself in a frenzy, he gently took her hands and quieted her down in the only way he could think of: leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her lips. His attempt seemed to work as she immediately stopped babbling and blushed brightly enough to light up the dark bedroom. Seeing that she was now more likely to answer him in an intelligible manner, he put his hands on her shoulders and repeated his earlier question. Sniffing and wiping her eyes, she looked at him with puffy, red eyes.

"You just started screaming and thrashing in your sleep a few minutes ago. Your circuits were all glowing. It looked like you were dying so I got scared and tried to wake you up but you justwouldn'twakeupandsoIgotworriedandstartedshakingyouohRootharrypleasedon'teverleaveme."

By the time she got to the end of her explanation she was back to her previous undecipherable pace of speech, so he gave up on trying to get her to slow down and simply kissed her again before pulling her off his chest and into his arms. Seeing what he was doing, she settled back into his arms, clinging to him like he would drift away if she didn't hold on tight enough. Knowing that it would take a bit more to soothe her if she was so worked up, he started brushing her hair like he used to do when she was scared in the pit, making her start melting in his arms.

When she was finally calmed down and loosened up on her death grip, he explained his dream and that it had probably been Gaia doing something to his circuits. He knew he was going to worry everyone, but seeing how distressed they were over his state, he couldn't find it in himself to lie to them, especially not when whatever had happened might have a significant impact on his life. Still, he was not the only one puzzled about what had happened, although the most prominent reaction he had gotten from his companions had been pure shock, what with them either having knowledge about Gaia downloaded in their brain thanks to the system made to summon Servants, or already knowing quite a bit in Magecraft.

Still, so far whatever had happened didn't seem to have aftereffects, so he resolved to check it out in the morning. He was about to fall back to sleep as Sakura had already done, when he felt Rider's hand on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to ask her what she needed when suddenly a soft pair of lips found his own. Unlike the kiss he had given Sakura, this one lasted no more than a few moments, before the lavender-haired Servant broke the kiss, her blindfold staring right in his eyes, and her face much more solemn than he had ever seen her.

"Master, please do not worry us and then dismiss the problem like that. I don't know if you have realized it at this point, but you have seven women who love you with all our hearts and need you. We are all your Servants, or people who consider you as family, and all of our love goes to you, regardless of our age. I think I am speaking for all of us when I say that we can't stand the thought of anything happening to you, so please, don't wave away potentially life-threatening problems like that. It is our purpose to protect you from anything we can, so the biggest nightmare for us is a threat we can't protect you from.

We love you, Master. Be safe, for us if nothing else."

Having said her piece, she kissed him again and settled down in her previous place, next to where Illya, who had also fallen asleep. Still dazed from what had happened, he looked down at the rest of his Servants to ask what had happened,and turned just in time for another pair of lips to crash against his own. He was shocked to find the lips this time belonged to Caster, who gave him a reproachful but loving look like Rider had before returning to her place on his leg.

He wasn't quite as surprised when Assassin was next to kiss him with a look clearly stating that if things had gone her way, she would have done so far earlier, though she did shock him by taking it a step further and inserting her tongue. He supposed that she lacked the sense of propriety that his other Servants had, little though it was. Once she was done, and returned to her place, he was quite sure of what was waiting for him when, looking to his left, Leanna stepped up and gave him a passionate kiss, her smile so wide it was threatening to split her face in two. Joy was more reserved and shy, but once she was into it, she was just as passionate as the others. Finally, Monica stepped up and gave him a last, long kiss, before withdrawing her lips and looking back at her sisters. The three homunculi all exchanged a smile before returning to their normal sleeping positions, looking much more satisfied.

Harry eventually settled down, for the first time since coming to the Emiya estate, unable to sleep, his mind trying to process just what in the name of the Root had just happened.

-Break-

Rider was not really sure what had come over her. While she had been intending to scold her Master for being insensitive towards herself and her fellow Servants, she had not intended to kiss him so suddenly like she had done. It was true that she had slowly fallen for him in the days she had known him. Normally, his age would be a concern, but for Servants, who exist outside of time, he could be ten or he could be ten thousand and she would not care either way. She herself was, strictly speaking, several millennia old, so at this point whoever she pursued a relationship with, outside of other Heroic spirits from her time, would be toddlers to her. What mattered was that he was the most loving, most noble, and most caring man she had ever known and thus she had fallen for him. He was a far cry from the men she remembered meeting in her life, as those had been greedy fools, only motivated by the thoughts of either slaying her, or enslaving her sisters, something she was perfectly aware would be complete anathema to Harry.

As she tried to understand her own action, she realized the impulse had come when she had seen him kiss Sakura, making her act without thinking. For a single moment, she had felt burning jealousy, for where Sakura had found someone to love her, she had never had the luck to have such a person there for her when she had been alive, and she had died alone, forsaken by all. Therefore, before she could even realize what she was doing, she had already pressed her lips against her Master's, deciding that she might as well try to convey her feelings properly.

She just hoped she had not distressed him with the knowledge that he had seven women in love with him. If he was distressed, she would do whatever necessary to make it right, even if at her own expense.

-Break-

Caster was concerned for her Master. When Rider had impulsively kissed him, she knew that all of them would have to confess their feelings or jeopardize their chances of ever being able to do so without being left behind.

When her Master-Harry- turned toward her she leapt for the first chance and kissed his as gently as she could. In her years of seduction and betrayal, she had kissed many men and even some women, but kissing someone had never felt as _right_ as it had when she kissed her Master. It was as if she had found the last piece of a puzzle that would have been her soul, making it complete, whole, and absolutely _perfect._ While she was angry at Rider for forcing her confession so early and potentially risking his acceptance of them, she also could not help but feel somewhat grateful for getting the chance to kiss her Master. She had seen is his eyes confusion, but acceptance. Her heart had soared when she saw that. It meant that he hadn't expected them to have fallen for him, but accepted them nonetheless.

-Break-

Assassin was the happiest she had ever been. When she realized that she had fallen in love with her god, she had initially thought that it was only appropriate. He was the only one she could truly love. All others would forever come second. It was only later that she realized that her god might not accept her dirty, unfaithful form. She had attempted to earn his acceptance while doing penance by watching over him in his sleep and guarding him during meals, but he didn't seem to have noticed, or if he did, he hadn't seemed to deem it enough. This drove her deep into a pit of despair as her entire body sang with love and devotion for her god, but she knew that he did not return her love.

Yet hope rose up within her when she saw her fellow Servant lay her lips upon her god's own. Originally, her instinct had been to kill her fellow Servant for her impertinence, and she would have done so without hesitation if the mortal shell of deity had shown the slightest sign of rejecting the action, but her god did not reject her as expected.

When his second Servant repeated the action and was not rejected, she took the action her body had been begging her to accomplish, and took her god's lips in her own. The feeling of her lips on his had nearly driven her over the edge, more so at least than a great deal of men in her mortal life, but it was to be expected from the center of her universe. Needing more of his taste, she had taken the kiss a step further, slipping her tongue inside his mouth, although she had made certain to be gentle, not aggressive, since her god was young, and still inexperienced when it came to women, although in time she would hopefully be able to teach him about the female body.

When the kiss was done, she had felt the need to relieve her womanhood, but refrained out of respect for her one and only Master. Not only did he need to recover from what had happened earlier, but she had just joined her god's harem, and thus needed to take things slowly. Her god might be too young to enjoy such activities at the moment, but it would only be a few years before they could indulge to his heart's desire. She had spent centuries despairing, what were a mere few years, when she could spend them by the side of her God?

-Break-

Leanna was in La-La Land. Ever since her Master created her, she'd known her entire life would be dedicated to him. There were a lot of things she loved in life, but Master was the biggest among them! She had always loved him, but it had taken him nearly dying in his sleep for everyone's feelings to truly come out. It was perfect! Like a fairy tale! She had seen everyone kissing him and just did what came naturally and done it herself. It was even better than she could have imagined! She felt the mental urge to squeal, but refrained since she would have woken the others up.

-Break-

Joy was sitting as still as she could with a massive blush on her face, wondering if she had really just done _that_. While she loved her Master, all of her sisters did, she never quite imagined doing _that_ , at least, not for quite a while, since he was still so young.

She had always been a quiet girl, preferring gardening and the like to the active, boisterous activities of her younger sister. All of them had always dreamed of being able to kiss their Master, but none of them actually thought they would be able to until he was older and inclined to take them a bit more seriously. It wasn't like age really mattered to them due to their Master being a number of years older than them, but it would matter to him. She would have to think on this further.

-Break-

Monica... wasn't sure what to think. It was her duty to Master to be at his side and assist him, but a relationship might complicate that. She also wasn't sure how having six women suddenly confess their love would affect him.

She did hope he accepted their love, but she was prepared if he wished it so to simply act like nothing had happened and go back to business as usual. Her younger sisters might be hurt, but such was the duty of a homunculus. At the very least they were fortunate enough to have a kind Master, which was much more than what they could have expected from any other Magus.

She of course knew that Master would never intentionally do anything to hurt her or her sisters, but as just demonstrated by his dismissal of his near-death experience, he did it unintentionally sometimes. Regardless, she resolved to stand by him, whatever he decided.

-Break-

Harry was internally panicking. His Servants had all just _kissed_ him. Sure he loved all of them, but to know that they all loved him like that shocked him to his very core, since his life with the Dursleys, and later, with the Matous, hadn't exactly left him aware that people _could_ like him. He knew that he didn't want to do anything to hurt them, but he wasn't sure if they would all accept being with him, since three of them were Servants, women who had carved their place in history in periods where they were seen as only slightly above cattle.

The fact that they had all just kissed him in view of each other showed that they were all willing to get along, but he didn't want to put them in that position. Unfortunately, it was the only solution he could think of where nobody was left out. He would leave the decision to them, he decided. He would love all of them equally and if one of them objected, he would do his best to solve the problem. He also decided that based on Rider's words about endangering himself, he would have to keep himself safe, for their sake. His mind made up, he whispered a quiet "I love you too," and fell asleep in the embrace of the women that loved him.

-Break-

Morning came too soon for Harry. For the first time in his life, he slept in. When he woke up, he was still the only one awake, even Assassin, who oddly enough wasn't creepily watching him as he slept anymore. It seemed everyone else was just as exhausted from last night as he was.

Looking around at his bedmates, he knew how to get his acceptance of their love across. First, he leaned over to Sakura on his arm and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. That seemed enough to rouse her as she shifted and blearily opened her eyes,a small smile on her lips.

After Sakura, he leaned over to Rider on his other arm and gave her a kiss of her own. It was a moment before she moved, her blindfold focused on him, and she gave him a dazzling smile and she pulled him into another kiss. He smiled back at her before moving on to Caster, who he also kissed. When he did so, her eyes fluttered open in a regal manner and she gave him a gentle smile, cupping his cheek. She planted a chaste peck in return before releasing him.

He then turned to Assassin to find her already awake and staring at him, making him once again question whether she had slept in the first place, or had actually woken up earlier but had stayed as she was. She seemed hesitant to touch him,her behavior screaming that she was not quite sure of what to do, so he reached down and gave her a reassuring kiss. This had the desired effect as the second his lips touched hers her arm snaked out and pulled him into a deep, long kiss, once again being the only one to use tongue, although this time she took it a step further when she grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her breast. Harry gave her a look and cut her off at the pass right there, so she reluctantly released his lips. While he was quite aware that she was perfectly fine with doing "adult" things with him despite his age, he himself felt he was still far too young to even _think_ about it. Although he briefly wondered how long he would last through puberty before giving in to his urges and accepting his Servant's forwardness.

After Assassin, he turned to Leanna, repeating his earlier actions. Upon his lips touching hers, a pleased look crossed her face, her eyes opened, she broadly grinned and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, cooing about how cute he was.

When Leanna finally released him, Joy, who had been awoken by her sister's antics, gave him a look of anticipation and he obliged her by pulling her into a kiss. She blushed and melted into his embrace before he let her go and she leaned back, sharing a happy look with her sister. Both of them then turned and woke Monica, who despite the shuffling and earlier sounds from her sister was still very much asleep, up. She sleepily rose and looked at him, looking like she was waiting for input. Said input came in the form of her creator placing a chaste peck on her lips, making her smile slightly.

Once everyone had finally gone through their morning routines, he was able to get out of bed himself and get dressed. The women were all ecstatic that he'd accepted them and their love for him without much more than a night of existential crisis, most of them aware that most males would have been very, very nervous about such an arrangement, considering each of them could seriously hurt the average human male without much effort. Sakura, who had observed the goings on around the room, gave him a pouty glare, cheeks puffed. Knowing that she was simply jealous, he simply planted a kiss on her lips again and she was back into blushing dere-dere mode.

Illya for her part, looked murderous at all the women trying to steal her Big Brother away from her until he caved and ruffled her hair while hugging her, which got her to calm down. A part of Harry dearly hoped that unlike what he had heard happened in anime, the snowy-haired girl would _not_ eventually develop a crush on him. While he liked her, it was like a sister, and he didn't even know how he was going to deal with seven females in love with him, let alone eight if Illya decided that her Big Brother was the perfect boyfriend.

Finally, Harry got himself dressed and left the bedroom, ready to begin the day while the women in his life finished their morning routines. It appeared that Saber and Kiritsugu were also deciding to sleep in as neither had left their rooms. He took advantage of this opportunity by cooking a large and quick breakfast for everyone.

-Break-

Harry had just finished cooking up a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast when Saber followed the smell of food out of her room. She surprised him though, when instead of focusing on the food like she usually did, she immediately went to him to check him over for injuries in a surprisingly concerned manner and interrogate him about his screaming last night.

Apparently, it had given her and Kiritsugu quite a scare, but some bounded field Caster had set up over the bedroom prevented them from entering to check on him. He had at least the good grace to look apologetic and gave his Servant a reproachful look for keeping their hosts out. The woman, far from being rattled, simply said that her mind had been on other matters at the time, like keeping his circuits from bursting into flames, and as such didn't prioritize figuring out who was at the door and letting them in. Saber glared at her, but didn't push it any further, knowing that had she been in the blue-haired woman's place, she would have done the same.

Eventually, the food was served and everyone dug in with gusto. There was a bit of competition over who got to sit next to Harry, but it was resolved when Sakura somehow clawed her way to his right, Rider slipped in on his left, and Assassin took her place standing behind him despite his protests. Everyone laughed when Sakura started trying to feed him eggs, to which he tried to say no, while she simply ignored him and did it anyway whenever he opened his mouth.

After they had been there a while, he asked Saber if she knew where Kiritsugu was. The blonde quickly gulped down the food she had in her mouth, which happened to be her fifth serving, and replied that he was probably feeling ill this morning like he had been since the end of the previous war. Not knowing how to help him, Harry moved on to what he had resolved to do that morning and asked Caster to check how his circuits had been changed by Gaia the previous night.

Followed by the entire female population of the house, he went to the living room couch and removed his shirt, making Sakura blush heavily. Once he had laid down on the couch, Caster put her hands on his back and closed her calling on her magic, a shocked look crossed her face, making her stop her examination and take step back. Feeling that she was done, Harry looked up and saw the odd look the usually regal and composed Servant wore.

"What's wrong, Caster?"

"Master," she said, voice trembling, "c-c-could you please activate your circuits?"

Harry shrugged, not knowing where she was going with this and brought up his mental trigger: a purple flower blossoming in a field. The second his circuits activated, raw prana filled the room in physical waves, nearly drowning all those present in pure power. Sakura fell backwards but was caught by Rider, who looked overwhelmed by the amount of power she was being supplied with.

Harry closed his eyes and mentally sought out the circuits in his body and was staggered when he realized why the pain he had felt upon eating the apple felt so familiar to when he accidentally made a magical circuit from a nerve. His _entire_ nervous system had been turned into duplicated copies of his existing circuits. Testing a hunch, he projected a knife onto the table in front of him. Rather than the normal blue electricity that formed when he used projection, the knife simply popped out of the air onto the table. Picking it up, he performed structural analysis on it and nearly dropped it when his hunch was confirmed. The knife was experiencing none of the erosion Gaia usually caused on projection to make them fade from the world. To combat the threat that he would be facing as her champion, Gaia had not only made him a prana battery able to supply an _army_ of Servants if he so wished, but she had also tampered with him to give him the use of the Denial of Nothingness.

Unlike when he created an object from his od, something most Magus could do to one point or another, the Denial of Nothingness was considered a True Magic because not only did the user literally create matter out of _nothing_ , said matter then existed _permanently_ from that point on. This was different from normal Thaumaturgy by the simple fact that objects created from pure od, no matter how perfectly restituted or created, were rejected by Gaia itself, meaning that they always disappeared after some time. Objects created through the Denial of Nothingness though, were as real as any other, and even when broken, they kept existing.

"Master," Caster said, awe in her voice at what he had just done, "You are a True Magician."


	7. Chapter 7: Gathering Forces

**On a dark, stormy night, from a desolate castle far away, I, Neolyph, have brought you another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. After the last two chapters of non-action, we're going to be getting back into the war. Fortunately, with this chapter I think I can get into weekly updates so long as nothing interrupts my schedule too much. Also, if you missed the notification on last chapter, I had it beta'd by Arawn and significantly improved, so if you haven't re-read it, go ahead and do so now because it is a bit longer now and more clear about certain aspects. Also, because I know that I'm going to get some reviews regarding this,** **Saber is not still alive, frozen in time, and making some deal with Alaya. She is dead and a full fledged heroic spirit. Her wish to fix the mistakes of her past remains the same.** **Now, to answer some reviews.**

 **Also, real quick, regarding the fact that I have stated my intention on not making this a WBWL story in the Hogwarts section, I did some thinking on the various things I could do with that and gave it some more thought. I couldn't decide what to do, so I will leave it up to you readers. On my profile, I put up a poll on whether this should become a WBWL story. Check it out and cast your votes. Voting will close at the end of the Grail War. Now to actually answer some reviews!**

 **Thundramon: Yes, Denial of Nothingness if pretty powerful, but only if you know how to properly apply it. While Harry is a very talented Magus for his age, he is still ten and hasn't thought up all the applications. He will have to experiment with it quite a bit to unlock its true potential. For example, technically with Denial of Nothingness, one could project Magic Circuits, but he has no idea how to do that. I define True Magics differently in that all it takes to pull one off is to surpass the regular rules of magecraft. As Denial of Nothingness is basically the creation of matter and energy that Gaia does not reject, all it takes to technically possess it is for Gaia to stop eroding one's projections. I don't quite understand why in canon Gaia hates humanity. She is essentially the will of life on earth to survive, which includes humans. The only reason that she kills humans is because they are capable of doing harm to the planet due to possessing their own will in the form of Alaya, but humans also have a vested interest in their own survival and as such need to keep the planet alive to do so. They may have their own internal squabbles, but ultimately Alaya and Gaia should be on the same side most of the time. Because of this, I'm painting Gaia in a more sympathetic light and making her a sort of motherly figure to Harry. Thanks for the ideas for the WBWL story. Check out the poll on my profile to vote.**

 **AnimeA55Kicker: I agree that it was sudden, but A) I hate oblivious harem protagonists and B) Harry is an intelligent kid. He'd have figured it out eventually so I just decided to expedite things before the big Grail War showdown.**

 **Have a Little Feith: Ahh, I see where you're going with that. I might put something like that in, for comedic value if nothing else. We'll see when we get around to Hogwarts.**

 **riffin121294: I don't think I'd write a WBWL story quite like that if I wrote one, but check the poll on my profile to express your opinion anyway.**

 **Akuma-Heika: Rin and Luvia can date whoever they like. I put Luvia in with the same lot I put Rin in. Assassin can duplicate the miracles of seventeen Hassans, but she only uses seven of them in canon. Because of this, we know she has ten other abilities that were miraculous enough to be considered miracles for an assassin. I assumed that one of those ten unknowns acted like HP metamorphism. Yes, Gabriel is male, but few seem to be aware of that, even among Christians due to pop culture. See my reply to Thundramon regarding Gaia. Harry is more her version of a Counter Guardian, removing planetary threats. With a bounded field set up by Caster actively drawing from Harry, it would have taken quite a while for Saber to wear the field down. See my reply to Thundramon regarding DoN.**

 **Silent Reader: Dark mentor Snape. Dumbles, Ron, and if I go WBWL, Potter. No fem Gilgamesh. Never quite understood that fandom.**

 **Pedo: Rider, Homunculi, and Assassin. Maybe more depending on additions to the harem. Harry is a D through and through.**

 **OverlordAinz: Yeah, it's kind of hard to write impressions and exposition without going wall of text. Fortunately, Arawn helped me break it up some. Semiramis will not be in the harem, sorry but I don't know enough about her to write her. She's kind of an obscure character.**

 **Lord Anime: Don't worry. I've always felt certain Nasuverse characters were a bit underpowered, good and bad. I don't think anyone from Potterverse except** _ **possibly**_ **Fleur or Daphne will make it into the harem. Saber will be, Rin will not. Hermione will be horrified by the idea and actively oppose it, sort of like how she is with house elves.**

Chapter 7: Gathering Forces

Silence permeated the living room at Caster's announcement. Everyone in the room knew exactly what it meant to be a True Magician. Simply possessing a True Magic gave one equal rank to the Queen of the Clocktower and made them feared and respected by any intelligent magus out there. If one wanted proof, all one had to do was look at Zelretch, the Dead Apostle who lived in the building run by quite possibly the single most bloodthirsty hater of Dead Apostles on earth. The fact that he was still alive, and that the Clocktower was still standing, was a clear demonstration of how much a True Magician was feared.

Harry just stood there, looking at the knife he had _made_ , not just projected. His mind was moving at a million miles an hour as he thought of the various implication of this. Unfortunately, this left him not paying very much attention to the white blur that slammed into his stomach, knocking him to the ground. His Servants all immediately moved to protect him but he halted them when he realized what it was. He raised his head to see Illya looking at him with wide, awe-filled eyes as she hugged him as hard as she could.

"Big Brother, you're a True Magician!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, apparently so overwhelmed by the announcement that she had forgotten the decorum drilled into her by the Einzberns. He smiled obligingly and patted her head like the older sibling he was supposed to be, before he pulled himself back up onto the couch, only slightly impeded by her being apparently determined to hang on to him like an adorable sociopathic little limpet. One should never forget that even a girl as cute as the white-haired loli, was a Magus raised by the Eizberns, and as such, not quite as concerned with the idea of killing people than most people easily thrice her age.

He had just sat back down when the door to Kiritsugu's room slammed opened and he stepped into the room, looking haggard and worn. Harry could instantly see why he'd chosen to remain in his room this morning. The man's veins stood out against his skin, dark red and pulsing like something inside them was trying to get out. It reminded him slightly of what his own veins looked like sometimes when the worms would get restless.

"What's this I hear about about you being a True Magician Harry?" Kiritsugu asked, interrupted by fits of coughing. Harry quickly explained his dream the previous night regarding Gaia, the following incident with his magic circuits, and Gaia's lack of rejection on his projections. The former Magus Killer sat quietly, listening to the explanation with only a question here or there. When the explanation was finished, he sat looking at Harry quietly for a moment before phrasing his question.

"Harry, would you take mastership of Saber?"

He blinked, caught off guard by the question nobody would expect of a magus in the Grail War, even under these circumstances. A Servant was a force of nature, and most Magi _dreamed_ of being able to summon one, not only for the honor of being chosen by the Holy Grail, but also because they were almost unstoppable forces of destruction if they so wished. Most Magi would literally _die_ before giving their command seals, the proof of their pact with a Servant, to anyone outside of their family. And despite the quickly forming bond between Harry and the older man, they had known each other for barely more than a few days, hardly enough for him to trust a child raised by a Magus known for being completely ruthless.

Eventually snapping out of his shock, he cautiously asked:

"Why, exactly? And is Saber alright with this?"

Kiritsugu looked at Saber for a moment and she gave him a look, letting him know her feelings on the subject.

"She was actually the one who requested it. You see, due to this curse I bear from my participation in the last war, my circuits are crippled and I can't support her at full strength. I was barely able to even summon her, and the drain since is slowly driving me even more ill. Not to mention, due to mistakes in our past partnership, she somewhat justifiably hates me. The only reason she didn't stab me right out of the summoning was because she needed my help to destroy the Grail. She seems to have taken quite a shine to you though, and since you're apparently a True Magician, you shouldn't have too much trouble supporting an additional Servant. That's why I'm agreeing to it, not that I could stop her if she really wanted to change Masters. So, will you take her on as a Servant?"

Harry gave a glance at Saber to gauge the truthfulness of Kiritsugu's statements and saw her looking at him blushing, with a pleading look on her face. A small part of him felt like cursing the Root, as it was quite clear that he was soon going to pick yet _another_ female in his apparent Harem, although given what he had heard of Saber, it would probably take her a while to act on her feelings, and that was if she _did_ feel like his other Servants. He wasn't exactly sure as to _why_ she would have feelings for him, as while he understood somewhat Sakura's infatuation with him, and his Homonculi's as well, he was still persuaded that somehow his Servants were not quite seeing him for who he was. After all, he was hardly someone you could love.

Watching Saber fidgeting slightly, apparently nervous at his prolonged silence, he decided that he might as well just ask, after all she was a grown woman, and could make her own decisions. He had no right to deny her something she wanted, after all.

"Saber, are you sure you're alright with this?"

"Harry, in the short time I've known you, I have seen in you, bravery, nobility, and selflessness I had rarely seen even during my time. Were I not a Servant I would still swear fealty to you as my Master. You may not think it Harry, but you do display the qualities of a knight. Had I felt your soul from the Throne, I would have answered it in a second. I have never felt that way about any living man Harry. As such, I wish to be yours, as a Servant… and as a woman."

The last part was whispered, although the huge blush that lit up her face was a clear indication as to what she had just said. Harry held in a groan at this happening yet again. Someone was to blame for this, he knew, and he had an inkling that he would have to kick a certain Dead Apostle in the privates for it, since he was quite certain the man was laughing his ass of somewhere, while watching him. Once he found him, there would be Hell to pay.

Knowing that there would be no stopping her without deeply hurting her, he gave her a nod before she strode over and knelt before him. She drew Excalibur and held it in front of her, point toward the ground like a knight of old swearing fealty and obedience to their king. The irony of the action was not lost on him, since many, _many_ histories painted King Arthur as the perfect King, yet here said King was kneeling in front of prepubescent boy, willing to swear her loyalty to someone who had only a fraction of her age when she had been crowned King.

The solemn atmosphere was reinforced by the hooded figure of Caster, who had taken position behind the kneeling Servant, Rule Breaker clutched in her hand, ready to break the contract between Kiritsugu and the King of Knights, and to see her swear herself to her new Master.

"I, Arthuria Pendragon, first of my name and former King of England, do on this day swear complete loyalty and obedience to you, Harry James Potter as my rightful Master and King. From this day forth, my sword shall be your sword. Offenses against you shall be offenses against me. Your enemies shall be my enemies and your word shall become my law. No harm shall befall you while I stand vigil and no misfortune shall near you. I shall be your sword in the day and your shield in the night. So I swear this on my life and honor, for all eternity. Do you accept this oath, Master?"

He nodded solemnly, knowing exactly how much trust and faith she was putting in him. For someone like her, who lived and breathed knightly virtues, an oath like this was the equivalent of a command seal. If he accepted this oath, he would be responsible for yet another person. It was quite a lot of pressure, especially since a small part of him kept whispering that he would never be up to the task. Fortunately for the kneeling blonde, this part of him was silenced by the much larger one who would do anything to help friends in need, and in but a moment, he composed himself and spoke the words that sealed his fourth Servant to him.

"Yes, Saber. I do hereby accept your oath and all that it entails. May your loyalty forever bring you happiness and may you never fail in your duties. So mote it be."

As he intoned those final words, Caster stepped forward and pricked Saber's hand with Rule Breaker. He felt the familiar pain of command seals shifting around on his body to achieve symmetry. The ones on his back had shifted to his right arm while Saber's had burned themselves to his left. Rider's still bore the shield motif, Caster's were shaped like wands, Assassin's like chains, and Saber's like swords in sheaths. Another tiny drain appeared on his prana, drawing in what most magi would consider an immense amount of prana before slowing down to barely existent amounts, indicating exactly how low her prana amount had been prior to their linkage if it had taken that much to recharge her.

Saber herself let out a sigh as what looked like an immense burden was lifted from her shoulders, her prana reserves fully recharging, to the point of bursting and all her rankings shot up. C or D ranks shot up to A, A+, or in a few cases, A++ stats, changing the blonde Servant from someone who would have struggled against, for example, Archer, to a living weapon who could wipe the floor with all but the most powerful of Servants.

Sakura shot him her patented pouty look, displeased at his having taken on yet another female Servant and he mentally promised to make it up to her, since he had promised himself that he would never let her feel unwanted, or neglected, no matter what. Illya was much more physically demonstrative as she walked over to him and latched on, sticking out her tongue out at and glaring venomously at the new Servant threatening to take her Big Brother away from her. He appeased her by picking her up bridal style to set her down on the couch playfully and tickling her until she was begging him to stop, much to the amusement of his Servants, while Sakura was pouting even more fiercely.

With Illya dealt with, he returned his attention to Saber to find her blushing slightly and standing at attention before him. It was quite unsettling for him to know that a woman hailed as a living legend for centuries before he was even born, was blushing like a lovestruck girl simply because he had smiled to her. Although given her history, he was quite sure that Saber had rarely had the opportunity to even show that much emotion during her reign.

Smiling reassuringly at the reddening blonde, he only succeeded in making her blush even more, making her look like a living tomato.

"Alright everyone, right now, we need to prepare to summon and destroy the Grail. We should expect to face heavy opposition from it in the form of whatever the incarnation of evil can throw at us. We're going to need to marshal every force we can in order to take it out. Because of that, Illya, I understand that you sent your maids to get your luggage. Can you mentally call Berserker to come back with them? Also please ensure that you keep a tight handle on him. We don't need any accidents."

Illya huffed at him. "Of course Big Brother! Beserky would never hurt anyone if I didn't want him to! He's a good Servant!" She pouted again, but this time it seemed more deliberately designed to get his attention. Deliberate or not, he couldn't stand her making that face and started tickling her again.

When he was done, Illya spaced out for a minute before confirming that she had called her Servant and that he would arrive shortly with her maids.

Everyone sat around discussing strategy before half an hour later, Harry felt a massive amount of killing intent approach the house. His now four Servants all jumped in front of him to shield him from the bloodlust, but he didn't have time to grab his little sister as she beamed and rushed toward the door, throwing it open. Standing in the threshold was a giant of a man. He towered seven or eight feet tall and seemed to be nothing but pure stone-black muscle. He was mostly naked, with the exception of an armored loincloth and metal bracers and anklets. In one hand he held a sword bigger than most men, a crude thing that looked to have been hacked out of a single piece of rock.

What really put Harry off though was the sheer malice the giant radiated, seeming like he would like nothing more than to annihilate everything that could pose a threat to his Mistress. Oddly enough though, he couldn't feel any of the malice directed toward himself. It seemed that some of his Mistress' affection for him came across the giant's mental link with Illya and caused him register his Mistress' brother as an ally. Harry was grateful for that, as the same didn't seem to have happened for Kiritsugu, that or prior to their reconciliation her desire to cause him pain was enough that it still lingered in her Servant's head because the giant seemed to be barely restrained from charging through the entry way and reducing the magus killer to a stain on the carpet.

Regardless of the Mad Servant's appearance, Illya didn't seem to care as she skipped up to him and with the ease of routine the giant put one hand down, a hand she stepped on to and he gently, or as gently as a Berserker could, placed her on his shoulder. She placed one arm around his neck to steady herself and waved at Harry. He had to blink at the sight, for it was quite surreal to see a tiny, pure white girl, sitting on the shoulder of a man who seemed to be her complete opposite, especially in such a position that would make most think of a father indulging his daughter.

"Big Brother, I'd like to introduce you to Berserker. Berserker, these are my daddy, Big Brother, and all the women trying to steal him from me!"

Berserker gave an intimidating growl at the end of that statement, feeling his Mistress' jealousy towards the various women surrounding her older sibling. Said older sibling simply sighed at her clinginess, her father smiled a bit at her calling him "daddy", and everyone else either blushed or looked offended at the white haired homunculus' accusation.

"Alright, now that Berserker is here, what do we do now?" asked the German homunculus, as her pet giant stooped to get through the doorway before standing in the corner, barely able to fit even with the high ceilings, understandable since the Emiya estate was rather traditional, and had a ceiling about seven feet tall, which was barely enough for the giant, even when he was slouched.

Once the massive monstrosity was through the doorway, Sella and Leysritt followed behind, carrying quite a number of suitcases. They went into the guest room Kiritsugu had given them, placing their own luggage in there and left the rest in the room Illya shared with Harry. It seemed that her reconciliation with Kiritsugu, which had been organized by Harry, had led them to like him a bit more than they had initially. They still didn't like the former Magus Killer much, but at the very least they could respect the fact that he had set things straight with his daughter, without regards for his own safety, and such resolve was something they could respect.

"Now, Illya, we get Rin down here." His unofficial little sister gave him a look.

"Rin? As in the Tohsaka heir? Why would she help us?" she asked innocently, before frowning. "She isn't going to try and steal you from me too, is she, Big Brother?"

"Yeah, why would someone like _her_ help someone when it wouldn't benefit her?" Sakura said, in one of the few times he'd ever heard her speak with hate in her voice. It was understandable though. Sakura viewed Rin as having abandoned her when the Tohsaka family threw her away to the Matous and despite going to the same school, Rin ignored and scorned her, despite the obvious torture the Matous were putting her through.

Seeing the shadows in the room start to move as Sakura involuntarily activated her magecraft, Harry took a step towards her and took her hand. The shadows instantly retracted as she leaned into him, a blushing smile on her face. He led her over to the couch and she sat herself in his lap, hugging him all the while. It still baffled him that all it took to snap her out of whatever negative emotion she experienced, was for him to touch her, even only holding her hand was enough to snap her out of her fits, and leave her a smiling, blushing mess.

"She is going to help us, Sakura, because she has to. When we met in the school, I didn't just threaten her. I intimidated her into signing a geass scroll Caster wrote up. Due to Caster's past history, she easily stuck in a little loophole stating that we can request any help we deem necessary in relation to the Grail War and she will be forced to comply. If I say that we need to destroy the Grail, she'll either comply or be compelled to. Given her past with you, I somewhat hope it's the second."

Sakura smiled a bit at the thought of her sister being manipulated so easily by Harry. She knew that he only did that to her sister for her sake. Another blush lit up her face and she snuggled into his shoulder, feeling like she could just lie in his arms forever. She sighed as he brushed her hair like he used to do when she would get scared in the worm pit. She knew that she had problems with her sister, but it was the bitch's fault. She still had memories of when her parents had given her to that worm Zouken. She had cried and tried to fight it, not understanding why her parents were giving her to this old man like a prized pig. Her parents had told her that a magus family only needed one child to be the heir. Two was just one too many apparently, so she was tossed off to an allied magus family to replenish them. What hurt the most was when, the adults having turned against her, she turned to her beloved older sister for help but was only given a cold dismissal, saying that it was her duty to the Tohsaka family to become a Matou magus. That had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

From that day forth, she had hated her sister with every fiber of her being. Had Harry not advised caution and patience, she might have killed Rin already. Fortunately, he had stepped into her life and guided her, and instead of killing her sister, she instead subtly sabotaged her efforts in everything, from breaking into the school in the middle of the night and altering her test answers to make her grades fall to hurt her pride as a student, to slipping past her workshop defenses and secretly sabotaging her experiments in the middle of the night to hurt her pride as a magus. Nothing hurt Rin's pride like getting a test back she thought she had passed with flying colors to find she failed or slowly filling a gem with prana only for it to explode in her face. She mentally giggled at the times she had seen the fruits of her labor in class, watching the haughty "perfect student" persona her sister so carefully set up to hide her inner nature as a bitch fall down in front of everybody as she loudly argued with the teacher about her test results before being told off and sometimes even given detention. She knew it was cruel, but it was hardly equivalent to what she had felt, being abandoned by the sister she had looked up to, admired, when she was being violated by worms every night, her body on fire as she screamed her lungs off. So to her, anything she did would never be enough to avenge the pain she had had to go through.

"Alright. Leanna, Monica, Joy, go collect Rin and bring her here. If she doesn't comply, tell me over the mental link and I'll invoke the contract. Make sure she brings her Servant. If something happens, leave her and come straight back here. I value your lives far more than I value her help."

The three black haired homunculi all visibly preened at his words, before nodding and leaving to do the job their Master had tasked them with. With them gone, the rest all sat around the table, with the exception of Berserker (who would have broken any chair they could offer him anyway), and planned how they would go about summoning the Grail.

They were interrupted when noon rolled around and took a break from the conversation so Harry and Sakura could make lunch. They could have continued the conversation, but nobody wanted to risk delaying a lunch made by Harry with Sakura's assistance by distracting them with battle plans, so they patiently and eagerly waited for the food to be brought out, devoured it with gusto, and helped him clean up.

By the time they finally got back to the discussion, his homunculi maids had returned with a grouchy looking Rin, followed by a bemused Archer. He gave each of his maids a welcome back kiss, to which all of the Servants and Sakura all got jealous, so he had to give each of them one as well. Saber, for her part, looked rather flustered, and it seemed rather obvious to all those in the know, that she was internally debating whether or not to ask for one as well. However, it seemed that the presence of people she considered as tentative allies at best, deterred her, and she eventually settled for keeping silent. The other Servants gave her reassuring smiles, since they knew she had deep scars when it came to acting like a woman, since they had had several discussions together whenever Harry was busy and didn't need them.

In a way, those conversations had served to make the four Servants closer, as each of them had certain issues lingering due to their life, and to have others who could somewhat understand what they had had to endure was something of a breath of fresh air. Not everything was alright between them, but they could acknowledge the hardships the others had experienced, and offer sympathetic words.

The mood was slightly ruined as Sakura saw her sister. Almost instantly, the shadows in the room reached toward the Tohsaka magus, ready to tear the brunette to pieces, but fortunately, Sakura managed to reign them in, although only just, and settled for gripping Harry's hand in her hand, and giving her sister a glare that would have made Berserker himself run for the hills.

Harry would never admit it to her face, but Sakura was terrifying when she was angry, which was fortunately rather rare. Deciding to step in before anything else happened, he gave the homunculi their leftovers from lunch, which they dug into like starving wolves, and sat Rin down at the table to explain the situation to her. She initially argued against him as the information he gave went against everything she knew of the Grail war, but eventually she broke down and accepted the reality of the situation when Kiritsugu explained his action in the last war and how they fit into her knowledge of events. As he convinced her of the danger the Grail presented, Harry couldn't help but notice the harsh, smug glares the homunculi were sending Rin when they thought he wasn't looking. Now he was very interested as to what exactly had happened when they picked her up.

-Break-

-Earlier-With Rin-

Rin was furious. Ever since her confrontation and subsequent agreement with Harry at the school, she had been looking over her shoulder. If a boy she had known since kindergarten, who was best friends with her sister, had been a magus and she hadn't noticed, she needed to be more paranoid. She had locked herself in her workshop, both to prepare as much as she could for attack and to get away from that irritating Archer. The white haired Servant seemed to take a perverse pleasure in making her life difficult by being deliberately unhelpful in everything and constantly making fun of her. Even when she had been negotiating with Harry to not kill her, he had not stopped with the wise cracks. To make things worse, she had been in the middle of filling one of her gems with prana when it once again exploded in her face. She had no idea why they did that! She had examined her technique and could not find a flaw in it, but sometimes her gems simply blew up!

She was in the middle of cleaning up the mess when she heard a knocking at the door. She mentally cursed Archer. He was supposed to be on watch, but he seemed to have ignored that duty yet again. She quickly cleaned herself up and went to answer the door, though not without a sense of trepidation. After all, few people knew where she lived and the fake priest wouldn't have knocked. For good measure, she took one of the most powerful gems she possessed and put it in her pocket. It wasn't much, but it might buy her enough time to make it to Archer if the need arose.

She walked out of her workshop in the basement to see that her lazy Servant sleeping on the couch. She gave him a quick kick to wake him up. He immediately jumped up, looked around, and glared at her like she had just committed some great crime against him. She just sighed and continued towards the door. She hesitantly opened it to see three stunning black haired women, who, for some reason unknown to her, were wearing maid uniforms. They really were exquisitely beautiful triplets, with long flowing black hair, maid uniforms that they filled out very nicely, black lipstick that gave them a femme fatale look, delicate features, and... red eyes. It was too late she realized what these women were as she pulled the gem out of her pocket and tried to slam the door shut. One of the homunculi casually held the door open with one hand while a second sister struck out with a baton, easily disarming her. She powered up her circuits, prepared to fight when the third held up her hand in a sign of peace. Rin paused for just a moment, which was all the third homunculus needed.

"Calm yourself, girl. We serve Master Harry. He sent us to retrieve you."

Rin paused, and considered the thing's words, before accepting them and powering down. She may not trust these things, but they seemed to be good quality mystic codes, even surpassing what she had heard could be found in the Einzberns homunculi. Homunculi were useful tools to be used and easy to discard, and if anyone could make them this quality, it was likely the boy she had last seen supporting three Servants. Not to mention, she had wards designed to detect hostile intent set up around the mansion, so it was unlikely that they meant her harm. Nodding her assent, she looked at them imperiously.

"Alright. I will graciously meet with your Master. Await my return here. I must go freshen up for going out and your Master can wait. I shall only be an hour or so. Do not touch anything while I'm gone," she said while turning on her heel and strolling back into the house, or at least, she would have had a hand not tightly gripped down on her shoulder, preventing her movement. She turned to tell off the thing that thought it could manhandle her in such a fashion when she froze. When she had last looked at the three, they had been at least professional and cordial, though they seemed to hold her with distaste. This time when she looked at them, she had apparently angered them with her dismissal of their Master. The faces of the three homunculi resembled Balkan carvings of Satan. For a moment, she genuinely feared for her life. Since homunculi were considered independent mystic codes, if one killed her without Harry's orders, it would not be considered a violation of the geass scroll. The third one in the back and apparent spokeswoman spoke again, this time with audible malice in her voice.

"Listen _girl._ Master Harry has sent us to retrieve you. You can either come with us as you are, or we can beat you and your Servant into unconsciousness and drag you both to him. We were not sent to wait on you and you will not delay him with your attempted power play. You will come or we will make you come. It matters little to us."

The entire ultimatum was given in the same cold, inflectionless tone that also somehow radiated pure irritation and disgust. It was like the maid would like nothing more than to reduce her to a bloody pulp and transport that back to her Master, but thought that taking the action unprovoked might displease him. The aura she felt was something she imagined only a powerful Berserker class Servant could emit. Regardless, Rin decided that it would be a very good idea to accompany these three maids back to Harry. It wasn't because she was actually terrified of them... no... it was... it was... because she didn't want to jeopardize her useful alliance with Harry. That was it! She saw a potentially advantageous partnership and decided that offending the mystic codes he sent to retrieve her was not worth it... it absolutely was not because the three homunculi completely terrified her.

-Break-

Back at the Emiya estate, Harry and Rin had just come to another agreement on their cooperation for the battle with the Grail. It was decided that since Harry had an immense amount of prana (he neglected to mention the Denial of Nothing business) he could make better use of Archer. After the battle, should the Servant of the Bow survive, he would be returned to Rin. Really this agreement was unnecessary as if he wanted to he could simply _demand_ Archer using the contract, but it was best to give someone under your thumb the illusion of equality and control. If Rin thought she still had cards to play, it made her that much easier to manage. The two shook on the deal and a quick use of Rule Breaker later and Archer's command seals were on his right arm, in the shape of a hammer used in a forge. The Servant noticed in a second the immense degrees of prana his new Master put off, but said boy sent him a quick mental message to keep quiet. Not having any reason to say no, the white haired Servant complied. Now Servantless and in a room with five of them, Rin made her excuses and left, still shooting fearful glances at his homunculi oddly enough instead of the other Servants.

Harry once again didn't miss the smug glances from his homunculi. He made a mental note to interrogate them later over what exactly had occurred between his maids and his "ally." Whatever it was, it could wait for later. He still had to go over the plans for the Grail.

The basic plan was that Harry, Illya, Sakura, and the Servants would go to the location of the Grail, which Illya confirmed was Ryuudou Temple. He had tried to keep Sakura with Kiritsugu since she wasn't a Master, but she had instantly shot that down when she sat down on his lap and pinched his arm until he agreed to let her go.

Once at the temple, Caster would hypnotize all the priests into leaving and Illya would use her ability as Lesser Grail combined with Harry's Denial of Nothingness to summon the Grail without the power it would normally get from the souls of the Servants. Once it was fully manifested, Saber and Archer would simultaneously use fully powered Excaliburs to take it out. It was slightly curious how exactly Archer knew and could perfectly project Excalibur, but he left it for another time. Everyone else would provide security in case any problems arose, but they weren't expecting too much resistance. Of course, saying that practically guaranteed that things would go horribly wrong, but they were prepared either way.

After a long day of planning contingency after contingency, Harry and Sakura cooked dinner for everyone. Dinner was a noisy affair as after the squabble for sitting next to Harry, which resulted in Sakura on his right again and Illya on his left, all of the Servants seemed to have a competition over who could eat the most, which amusingly seemed to embarrass all of them whenever it was pointed out. Assassin of course, ate while standing behind Harry despite his insistence that she sit to eat. It was something most could agree would take a while, as the woman was really, _really_ stubborn.

Everyone got a good laugh in when Illya and Sakura got in a glaring match over who got to feed Harry while he just tried to stay out of it. This of course did not work as it ended with both girls nearly taking his eyes out with chopsticks as they competed over who could get food in his mouth first. Rider was her usual teasing self as she relentlessly poked fun at Saber for not even lasting a day as Harry's Servant before confessing love for him. The former King, who was usually the very epitome of calm and composed, could do nothing but blush and stutter under the relentless tide of insinuations and innuendos the purple haired Servant threw at her. Across the table, Caster seemed to be engrossed in a discussion regarding political and social policies of ancient Greece with Monica, who had apparently read quite a lot on the subject. Leanna was occupied with trying to hook a spoon on her nose, despite repeatedly failing as she didn't know the trick of moistening the spoon first. Joy seemed amused by her sister's antics as she chuckled whenever she looked over the book on herbology she was reading. Assassin, while standing behind Harry's shoulder, watched the battle going on between Sakura and Illya like a hawk, as if trying to work out some way to get involved herself. Kiritsugu, who was sitting at one end of the table, silently observed the scene, feeling for the first time in a long time like he had a family.

It was a shame the feeling was interrupted by half the house exploding.


	8. Chapter 8: The First Legend

**Hello again readers! Neolyph is here again to bring you a new chapter of A Broken Wizard and A Broken Magus. My apologies for the cliffhanger last chapter, I just couldn't resist. Also, as thanks for all the support, you guys are getting this chapter a day early. I'm really grateful for all the support and reviews this story has gotten. It's my first attempt at fanfiction, so I really wasn't expecting it to go anywhere, but you guys proved me wrong yet again. So, once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart all of you who read, review, favorite, and follow.**

 **Also, again, regarding the fact that I have stated my intention on not making this a WBWL story in the Hogwarts section, I did some thinking on the various things I could do with that and gave it some more thought. I couldn't decide what to do, so I will leave it up to you readers. On my profile, I put up a poll on whether this should become a WBWL story. Check it out and cast your votes. Voting will close at the end of the Grail War. Now to actually answer some reviews!**

 **Also, in case anyone missed it, Saber is changed from canon. She never took the deal with Alaya. She is just a regular heroic spirit, though she still wishes to use the Grail to change the past. I always thought her background worked for canon with Shirou, but in this story since I intend for her to not die at the end of the Grail war, that little tidbit is a little superfluous.**

 **camdawg: Haven't decided whether Harry will keep Archer. Shirou's got his own shit to do after all.**

 **xYuukito: Mwahaha! Fear my cliffhanger powers! This is my story, I am God here! I could end every chapter with a cliffhanger! Mwahaha! JK, I won't though. I'm not that evil.**

 **Squadpunk 2.0: Normally someone like Harry would get a sealing designation, but the Clocktower lives in complete fear of True Magicians, just look at Zelretch. Not to mention, Lorelei Barthomeloi and her family basically revere users of Denial of Nothingness as pseudo-gods.**

 **Thundramon: I agree, some of the characterization could use a little work. Part of that stems from me just not being a very good writer, another part from that I'm still trying to get a feel for how I'm going to write all of the characters and their personalities. Saber is going to have some problems with Harry's more Slytherin elements. Harry is not GAR for Archer... he's just on loan from Rin. Harry will fix Illya, but she will not be in the harem. Also, don't worry. The Dursleys will get what they deserve... mwahaha.**

 **Silent Reader: Well, you got two of the verses I'm considering there. Haven't decided on Bazett. She is still alive, but she won't be making an appearance until the end of the arc.**

 **Pedo: ...we'll see.**

 **Akuma-Heika: The reason I differentiate is because as far as I can tell, Beasts of Gaia are designed solely to kill humans. For example, Primate Murder is Gaia's version of a nuclear deterrent against Alaya. Harry is going to be tasked with removing planetary threats, like Gilgamesh with Ea or a fully manifested Angra Mainyu, things that pose an immediate threat to the survival of planer Earth. Yeah, I get rule 63 Gilgamesh is possible, I just always thought he was a dick, gender aside. Yeah, he and Lorelei are going to have some funny interactions when he gets there. Yeah, EX rank mana... mwahaha. See my note this and last chapter about Saber being fully dead. True, she will be king again, but it would be weird to introduce yourself as the soon-to-be King of England. Haven't worked out a pairing for Illya. Whoever she dates will have to get past her inner sociopathy along with an angry Harry and Kiritsugu. Illya gets along with Saber, but that doesn't mean she isn't jealous.**

 **Delta8: You know... I always thought Gilgamesh was a little underpowered in canon. I mean, he got taken out by a third rate magus, a decent teenage magus, a Servant barely capable of supporting herself, and the counter guardian equivalent of a washed-up drunk. I decided to fix that.**

Chapter 8: The First Legend

In the dark basement of the Fuyuki Church, two figures sat, surrounded on all sides by comatose children, aged five to sixteen chained to the walls, most of them haggard-looking, or so thin their bones could be seen through their skin. Yet the two people didn't pay any heed to the weak sobbing sounds, or the stench generated by numerous unwashed bodies.

One of the figures was a middle-aged man, wearing a clerical collar denoting his affiliation with the Catholic Church, although if someone were to look at him in the eyes, they would have seen that instead of the usual warmth and love that a priest was supposed to offer, the man's orbs were dull, dead, and void of any kind of feeling. It was as if he was but a shell, an automaton working on autopilot, without a single shred of emotion.

Seating opposite to the priest, drinking enough wine to kill the average person was a young man with golden hair, whose face looked to be the result of someone gathering the greatest artists of the renaissance and commissioning them to create the ideal man. In short, he was perfect.

This sort of meeting didn't happen often between the priest and King of Kings, but circumstances forced their hands. It appeared that the Matou Master in the war had somehow allied with, or pacified all of the other Masters in the war, despite how ridiculous the idea was. He had even taken out the Servant the priest had stolen from the now one-armed Enforcer they had made sure to keep alive, although she was now chained in a corner, with chains made to resist any attempt to break free.

Despite disliking to intervene too much in the Grail War, Kirei Kotomine knew that he would be unable to deal with the problem himself, so he went to the only asset he possessed that could, even if said asset was an arrogant Babylonian King with a God complex, and was just as likely to kill him for requesting his aid that he was to actually help him. At the very least, since he knew the blonde better than anyone else on Earth, he was confident in his ability to get his help, although he would need to appeal to the King, instead of merely begging for help.

"Your Highness, I beg your forgiveness, but I have dire news that I must convey," he said, head low, in an attempt to not offend the powerful Servant.

Said Servant stopped his apparent but fruitless attempt to become intoxicated and looked at him the way most mortal men would look at a fly while trying to decide whether or not to swat it. While Kirei was far more interesting than most mortals, he would not accept to be spoken to with anything but the utmost respect, for he was the one who ruled above others, almost a living God, and such pedigree deserved nothing but the best.

After several tense moments, the king apparently decided that the priest he had allied himself with was showing an acceptable amount of deference, and thus stopped drinking, raising an eyebrow to signal he was listening. It was something he appreciated in the twisted man, while he lacked a true sense of self, he was most certainly very intelligent and observant, which was why he was willing to help him more than other pitiful mortals.

"Speak, priest, and do not waste any more of my time than necessary. What possible news could require you to come before me directly and interrupt my reverie?"

"Your Highness, I am aware of your plans to take the stage at the end of this Grail War, but if events continue as they are, this end might never come, I am afraid. One of the Masters, the Matou one, has taken four Servants for himself, killed one, and allied with the last two. They all plan to destroy the Grail permanently. As this would go against your wishes, I thought it urgent to inform you, before they could permanently hinder your plan."

While most would retch at the idea of being so subservient, especially to someone as arrogant as the First King, Kirei was not most people. Born with a twisted mind, he had never truly enjoyed his life, despite his best efforts, and it was only thanks to the Servant in front of him that he had finally faced the fact that he relished in the pain of others. The years since that discovery had seen him enjoying life more than ever before, even if it was by torturing other people, psychologically or physically. As such, he had little trouble being subservient, since he lacked the sense of self most people had, that would have rebelled against the idea of being ordered around.

At the fake priest's words, the King of Kings scowled. He had been intending to let this war run its' course, perhaps intervening in a fight here or there whenever the fancy struck him, before boldly striding out and claiming victory at the end, but this forced his hand. He was the lead actor, the star of the performance! How dare those unworthy mongrels try to stop the show before he had even taken to the stage! None crossed the King of Kings, and he would die before allowing a mere mongrel to hinder his plans!

"Which curs have foolishly allied themselves under the Matou banner, priest?" he growled. This transgression would not stand, he would make sure of it, and once he knew the names of his enemies, they would suffer, but none more so than the one who had dared stop the war. All rebellions had their leaders, after all, and they, most of all, were to blame, as their followers were mere sheep, following the strongest voice. Therefore, he would remind them just whothey had dared to cross, and would allow them to live, if they begged for their lives and swore to serve him, that is.

"Saber, Arthuria Pendragon, Rider, Medusa, Archer, Shirou Emiya, Berserker, Heracles, Caster, Medea of Colchis, Assassin, Nameless," delivered the priest, his eyes closed and his head bowed.

He noted the slight hum at the mention of Saber, but it was to be expected. If the information he possessed was to be believed, due to an error in the Grail system, as a result of the same catalyst and summoner being used on a corrupted Grail, the same Saber was summoned from the previous war, with all memories intact. He held in a smirk, knowing that the mention of the female knight the golden Servant had developed an obsession for would be enough to drive him to action. No King would allow their Queen to move against them, after all, and Gilgamesh possessed a pride that would demand him to intervene and claim her as his own, and to ensure that she knew not to cross him. He was proven correct when without another word the Servant stood and strolled out the door before disappearing. He smirked, knowing that the silly little rebellion would be swiftly dealt with. None could stand against the King

-Break-

Gilgamesh was completely blind with rage. So the Matou Master thought he could just take his beloved Saber from him, did he? He would show him. The lowly cur was unworthy to even look upon Saber, let alone be her Master. That right was reserved for him, and him alone once he conquered her. Just the thought of her got his blood flowing. That small, petite frame combined with her noble, aristocratic manners made her the ideal Queen for him. There was also the fact that she was perhaps the only Servant in this war truly worthy to fight him, with her noblest of swords. Even in his entire treasury, the only sword he possessed that surpassed the majesty and might of Excalibur was his own sword, Ea.

He finally arrived on a rooftop overlooking the building his ally had directed him to as the den those lowly mongrels were hiding in while plotting to ruin his grand performance. He had wished to avoid taking joining the act so soon, but as the modern saying went, "The show must go on," no matter the cost.

He reached into his Gate of Babylon and withdrew from it a simple Noble Phantasm, a rather weak one. Taking aim, he launched it at the miserable hovel the priest had called a "manor." Upon contact with the building, the sword detonated, engulfing half of the building in flames. He couldn't help but feel a bit eager as he charged toward the hole her had made in the estate. Perhaps with every Servant gathered, including his beloved Saber, he might get a worthy fight.

-Break-

Harry sat up, head ringing. Last he remembered, he had been attempting to mediate an argument between Illya and Sakura over who got to feed him. Then, there was a sound, and a light, and then nothing. He looked up to see what was once a rather nice dining room was now a blazing inferno, reminiscent of the Fuyuki Fire.

"Oh right," he remembered absently, "the house got blown up."

It took about three seconds to process the thought before he shot up, ignoring the pain he felt from being thrown by the blast in favor of taking count of everyone else, years of experience making it easy to ignore his wounds. Looking for Sakura, He saw Rider and Caster pulling her out of a pile of rubble from where a section of roof had collapsed. When he saw the blood on her forehead, his vision went red. He didn't know who attacked them, but they had better pray for the Root to have mercy on them, for he would not.

While he looked at the young girl, Saber was standing in front of him, sword drawn and looking rapidly left and right for the threat, her earlier nervousness gone, replaced by the cold and decided mask of the King of Knights, the young woman replaced by the fearsome warrior. Stumbling as he tried to take a step forward, he was caught by Assassin, who was still a step behind him, with a face of stone, although her eyes betrayed her fury at the idea that someone haddared attack her God.

Kiritsugu had already stood up, though he was still bent over, but Harry was unsure whether it was from injuries or from the curse, or even a combination of both, since his earlier state made it clear that what had happened was not good for his health.

Illya was over in the corner where Berserker was standing in front of her, arms wide to shield her with his body. Apparently, he had shielded her from most of the blast because she didn't have a scratch on her, although she was trembling slightly, the shock of being attacked having yet to wear off. Beside her, her two homunculi, Sella and Leysritt, lacked the halberds they had brought with them, but didn't seem to be letting that stop as one of them was wielding a chair leg and the other a ragged piece of piping, ready to defend their Mistress to the death. Leanna, Monica and Joy were all unharmed and had taken their position near Saber, attempting to ensure every entrance was covered. Archer was beside them, dual-wielding a black sword in one hand and a white in the other.

"Everyone alright?" he called out, eyes burning from the smoke surrounding them. He thanked the Root for the bounded field surrounding the building that would keep anyone from getting too curious and calling emergency services. Whatever had happened, things were about to get very ugly, as he had a very bad feeling on who or what had destroyed half the house. Whoever had managed to step so close without being detected, they were powerful, and skilled enough that none of the Servants had noticed their presence.

"Alright here, but Sakura is unconscious," Rider called out to him, holding the small girl against her.

"I will attempt to heal her injuries," Caster added.

"Fine here, Master," Saber said, still in a ready stance and scanning for hostiles.

Assassin didn't say anything, but since she was still holding him up she didn't need to.

"We're alright here. Berserker took the blunt of the blast, but his skin is too thick to take any damage," Illya called from her place behind the bloodthirsty giant.

Kiritsugu was wracked by a coughing fit, but managed to get out a, "Fine here."

"All's cool here boss," Archer said casually.

"We're alright as well, Master. Are you injured?" Monica replied, glancing back at him.

He was about to reply in the negative when he saw her face blanch and he looked down. He was confused as to what she was so shocked about, when he saw the six inches piece of shrapnel jutting out of his side. With a grunt, he gritted his teeth and pulled it out. Almost instantly blood poured out of the wound like a raging torrent, the blockage that had been keeping it in gone. He projected some bandages and had Assassin quickly wrap them around his side, to which she complied with a cold efficiency, no doubt used to treat others due to her past. Still wary of their foe, he projected a sword he had created as an experiment in his workshop.

It was entirely possible to store prana in physical objects, that was the foundation of a mystic code. Normally, one used this to produce an effect such as making the object harder, reinforcement, or giving it certain characteristics, alteration. It was also entirely possible to simply use an object as a storage device to be let out gradually or in a single blast, which was basically what the Tohsaka jewelcraft was. The reason they used jewels was that if was the least wasteful way of doing it. Jewels stored prana for long periods, stored large amounts, and could be released in a singular burst or slowly. This had given him an idea while he was doing research into Noble Phantasms. If he made a sword entirely out of gemstones, he could theoretically use it to enact large rituals instantly if he put enough prana into it, although it would take him months to store enough prana inside it to make it powerful enough to harm a Servant, despite his own immense reserves.

With notes Sakura had stolen from Rin, which was just about the most insulting thing one could do to a magus (he hoped she didn't find out before the end of the war), when she had sabotaged her workshop, he made a sword out of alchemically created and tempered diamond. He put about half of his daily prana into it for about a year and as a result it had reached the point of almost being a lesser Grail. He could enact high thaumaturgy almost instantly with it, similar to Caster and her Divine Words. It was still crude, since he lacked the experience to draw the energy from it efficiently enough to make it truly dangerous, but it was still more than enough to make it lethal for most beings

With his circuits turned on, and pumping his od at maximum capacity, he shoved as much prana as he could into his mystic code, making it shine brightly, yet it was clear the sudden flood of power was straining it. Most of it was simply stored in the massive gem, but a portion went towards reinforcing the diamond, making it impossibly strong, to make sure the sword didn't accidentally break, which would have caused the equivalent of a magical nuke explosion in the very core of Fuyuki. It was lucky that the same quality that made the gem able to store prana also made it almost infinitely reinforcable. The only downside was that as the prana in the sword was used, it got progressively weaker and more brittle.

With the sword drawn, he produced the kite shield counterpart he had created to go with it on the same principles. Between the lack of a shirt, the bandages, the grit on his face, the sword and shield, and the burning surrounding, he looked like a modern day knight preparing to face a dragon. The fact that he was also showing a face far too serious to belong to someone as young as him only reinforced the impression.

From the smoke obscuring the outside to them came a confident, arrogant laugh. He saw Saber tense at it, apparently recognizing it, and he quickly understood that either she had known the person laughing during her life, or she had met them during one of the Grail Wars. In both cases, that made their opponent a Servant, an eight one that shouldn't exist, yet here they were.

The blonde King lifted her sword higher and removed the invisibility concealing it, and with a glance, he made sure to remember its' blueprints, as he was quite sure that being able to recreate Excalibur would serve him on more than one occasion, if he survived the night, that is. His nervousness was understandable, after all Saber was a very powerful Servant, both because of her class, her legend, and the amount of prana he could supply her with, yet she seemed to think that their opponent was dangerous enough to be taken seriously, a bad sign. From what she had told him in their various discussions after their contract, she would almost never remove the concealment over her sword as it made her too easy to identify. The only time she took it off was in a truly life or death circumstance.

"Saber," he said, not taking his eyes off the smoke before him, "is this someone you're familiar with?"

Said Servant tightened her grip on Excalibur to the point he thought he heard the metal creak. Apparently her stats had really gone up when he had taken over as her Master.

"Yes, Master. You could say that. Unless I'm mistaken, this is the same Archer from the previous war. He seemed to be laboring under the delusion at the time that I would lower myself to becoming his woman. I gave him as firm a rejection as I could manage at the time. It would appear he didn't understand the message," she said, tersely.

"Why, my Saber, I'm genuinely hurt. Wait, are you what they call, 'playing hard to get'?" came a cocky voice from the smoke. The voice reminded Harry somewhat of Shinji, but the undertone of assurance gave the impression of having the power to back up the arrogance.

He didn't like the way he seemed to imply that Saber was his property. Especially when she had already confessed her love to him and been accepted by him. As such, he felt that it was his duty to deal with this waste of flesh. Not to mention, the bastard had hurt Sakura.

From the haze, strolled out a man with blonde hair and golden armor. The arrogant sneer on his face further increased the parallels to Shinji. Yet the similarities ended there. Shinji had never been particularly handsome, but this man was clearly an Adonis in human flesh, one whose presence exuded confidence, but one that the man could apparently back up, unlike his and Sakura's former "brother".

"Tell me, Gilgamesh. How is it you survived the last war? Who picked up your contract? Or are you so depraved as to simply eat people to sustain yourself?" growled Saber, her voice filled with menace.

"Oh my beloved Saber, I would never lower myself to the point of eating the uncouth curs masquerading as humans in this day and age. That would be far beneath me. To answer your other question, the local priest picked up my contract and command seals from the Tohsaka man's corpse. Not that it matters much."

"The local priest?" Harry asked, "You mean Kirei Kotomine, the overseer of the last war? Over in Fuyuki Church?"

Gilgamesh glared at him as if he was nothing but vermin, but perhaps in the hopes to appeal to Saber's sense of honor, he still answered.

"Yes, that one, mongrel. Now stay silent, your King is speaking. Interrupt me again and you will learn what happens to those who do not know their place."

His Servants all tensed and glared at the blonde king, ready to defend Harry at a moment's notice.

A plan forming in his head, he sent a quick set of instructions to Assassin, who was hiding in the corner, making her astralize and confirm she had understood them through their link.

"I will speak however I wish, Gilgamesh. I have heard your legend, King of Kings. How the mighty have fallen. From king of the world's greatest kingdom to a priest's bitch."

Saber, as well as all those present save for the King, gave him glances that told him they thought he had gone crazy. Gilgamesh, though, had narrowed his eyes at him, the air behind him beginning to shimmer as he opened his mouth, ready to retort, but he cut him to the punch.

"Man, Gilgy, I heard all about you in the last war. When I pictured the First Legend though, well, you aren't exactly what I pictured. I mean, sure, the golden armor could have been impressive, but on you it just looks tacky. I guess that some things are better off worn by people who can make them look good. You don't look like a King, now that I think about it, you remind me more of a child who wants to look impressive, but doing a rather poor job at it."

Rider seemed to catch on to what her Master was trying to do, though not the reason. It was still enough for her though.

"You know, Master, when that first sword hit here, I'll admit I was a little scared. I thought we might be under attack by some kind of powerful enemy, but I guess I was wrong. Good thing it wasn't really anything all that threatening."

Caster also seemed to pick up on what her fellow Servant was doing, and went back to look over Sakura. The only sign that she was nervous was the slight shake of her hands, something that Gilgamesh couldn't see as he was facing her back.

"Well, Master, Sakura is still a bit hurt. If you would be kind enough to deal with this bratty blonde quickly, I can start healing her. It should not be much of a problem, correct?" she said, sounding completely unconcerned with the situation.

Apparently, this was the final straw, as Gilgamesh seemed to literally turn red with anger.

"YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY YOU VILE DOGS? I WILL BURN YOU TO ASHES!"

With those words, weapons appeared. Perhaps that was an understatement. It looked more like the Golden King was attempting to pull every weapon in the Gate of Babylon out of it to attack him. Maybe he had pushed the prideful Servant a bit far, even if he was deliberately attempting to anger him, but there was little he could do about it now. His mind temporarily froze as it memorized everything that came out of the Gate, the information very nearly enough to fry his brain, had he had not been enhanced by Gaia itself. Swords of legend, an almost infinite sea of Noble Phantasms poured out of portals. Some were small, barely worthy to be called Noble Phantasms, while others were almost on the level of Excalibur. Some of them were barely enough to kill someone, others were literally anti-army weapons, able to completely reshape landscapes.

While he was memorizing everything and time seemed to slow to a crawl, he saw Archer produce a giant bow and a twisted sword that looked more like a drill-bit, chucking it as if it was an arrow. The part of his brain processing all the information about it whispered to him the name of the weapon, Caladbolg II, as well as information about its' destructive power. Apparently Archer was taking off the kiddy gloves, as if it hit, it would undoubtedly severely harm Gilgamesh.

As the projectiles the First Hero was summoning grew, Archer apparently realized that offense was out at the moment, and defense was the only option. At the white haired man's signal and warning, everyone piled in behind him, whileHarry flooded the Servant with prana, something only made possible by the tremendous amount of od he himself possessed, as well as his proximity to the Servant. It was fortunate they were in close proximity, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to supply as much prana to the Servant.

Soon, the sky was literally filled with swords, too numerous to count, and obscuring everything. With a snarl from Gilgamesh, the Noble Phantasms began raining down on the group, like a rain of death. It was fortunate that he was too arrogant to use their properties, and used them as glorified arrows, as otherwise the sheer destructive power behind them would have levelled the town, and, most likely, the entire area.

"Rho Aias!" shouted Archer, seven layers of glowing petals forming in front of him. Normally, the legendary shield would not have been able to resist the rain of powerful weapons, but the Servant was currently being supplied more prana than even Berserker himself would take, and diverting every bit of it into the shield, reinforcing it well beyond its' normal rank.

Harry didn't use an incantation, but unleashed a large amount of the energy in his kite shield to form another, stronger, dome around them, encompassing the flowery barrier, the energy in the kite shield instantly replaced by his own reserves. When the swords impacted, he almost fell to his knees from the amount of prana drained to keep the dome up. If he were anyone but a True Magician, and master of Denial of Nothingness at that, the sudden drain would have killed him instantly, frying his circuits and causing him to die a very painful death. As it was, his nerve-circuits burned at the strain from having the entire Noble Phantasm library unloaded on him, but the shield held firm.

The only true difficulties were when he had to throw up inner physical shields to deflect weapons designed to destroy magical shields like Gae Dearg, which passive ability would have instantly shattered their defenses. When these were shot at the shield he had to quickly project physical objects such as slabs of steel to keep the weapons from penetrating, diverting their course. Everything he missed was blocked by either Archer's Rho Aias or was deflected by Saber's sword or Berserker's slab of stone or Rider's chains. Eventually, after several minutes of non-stop raining, it slowed down. He fell to his knees, panting heavily, his face red and covered in sweat, sweat that was already evaporating due to how high his body temperature had risen.

Glancing around, he found the blonde King sneering at them from a nearby roof, his arms crossed and his eyes shining with disgust.

"So, the little Matou vermin has some fight in him after all. Here I was thinking that this would be simple. I thought I would be able to just swoop in, eliminate the vermin, and leave with my precious Saber, but you just have to make this difficult for me, don't you? It is of little consequence. You may have a powerful shield, but it matters not, for no shield may stand against Ea."

As he spoke, a single portal opened behind him and a sword slid out. Perhaps calling it a sword was something of a misnomer. It had no sharp edges, but was instead made of several round rotating segments, all spinning independently. It was inscribed in red lines, with a bright gold handle.

As Harry looked at it, pain shot through his head, as he found that he was able to store it mentally, but that his connection to Gaia scorned the weapon, deeming it alien, operating outside of the laws of the planet. He mentally identified it as Ea, Gilgamesh's personal sword. Analyzing the aspects of the weapon, he paled as he realized that if used properly and with the correct intent, it could literally destroy the planet. Technically, he would be able to reproduce it, but he wasn't exactly sure if he should or if Gaia would let him, since he highly doubted she would agree to anyone possessing a weapon able to destroy her. He was right, as a blinding pain shot through his mind, his link with Gaia urging him to destroy the weapon, for it threatened all life of Earth, and was in the hands of someone arrogant enough to believe it was his right to decide to use it.

He found himself wholeheartedly agreeing, as nobody, be they man, Dead Apostle Ancestor, or other, should have the power to end all life on a planet at their disposition. Especially not when they were too arrogant to understand the concept of restraint.

As the Golden King grabbed the handle of the weapon, Assassin informed Harry that she had completed the mission he had assigned her, and he sent her his express permission to begin what he had sent her for.

"Now, you see little Matou, how completely hopeless your attempts to survive have been from the start. To force me to draw this weapon is something you should take pride in. Your pride matters not, though. You shall not live long enough the enjoy it."

Holding the hilt of the Sword of Rupture, the King of All Heroes whipped it towards the huddled group, the sections of the sword beginning to spin, quickly gaining speed. Saber raised Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory beginning to shine with a blinding glow, soon echoed by its' projected copy held in Archer's hands, the original and the copy ready to unleash a last, desperate attack in the hopes of countering the Golden King's Noble Phantasm. The two Servants were interrupted when Harry put his hand on their shoulders and shook his head.

Their confused frowns turned to surprise when the young Matou Master pointed at the King of Heroes. Where he had once sported a cocky sneer, he was now showing a face of intense concentration, his muscles clenched like he was trying to resist something. Eventually, with a scream of pure rage, he threw Ea back into his vault and withdrew a small, ceremonial dagger from it. He gave them one last look of utter hatred before stabbing himself repeatedly in the heart with it. His face ended up set into a glare that promised untold retribution should he ever get the chance before he fell off the roof, dead.

"I love it when a plan comes together," Harry said, a smug grin on his face before passing out from exhaustion and blood loss.

-Earlier-

Assassin jumped from rooftop to rooftop, quickly moving to fulfill her god's orders. She felt a warmth in her chest that he had entrusted victory in the battle to her. It filled her with pride to know that he had enough faith in her that he was willing to entrust not only his life, but those of all those precious to him to her, and she swore that she would not such faith be misplaced.

Flashback

"Assassin, I need you to do something for me." echoed the voice of her Lord, the link they shared allowing them to communicate despite the presence of their enemy.

"Of course, Master. Speak and I shall obey." Was her answer.

"You just heard Gilgamesh mention his Master, correct? I need you to go to Fuyuki Church. The priest there is overseer of this war. Due to his position, he has dozens of command seals built into his body. I want you to take control of his circuits and force him to expend all of his seals ordering Gilgamesh to self-terminate with no casualties. Once you're finished, kill him and return here."

"I understand, Master," she replied, "I shall inform you when my mission is complete."

With that, she astralized and shot off toward the church.

Flashback end

After several minutes of jumping, she arrived at the desolate church across town, and she silently slipped in, looking for her target, the situation reminding her of the various assassinations against heretics she had taken on in life. As far as she was concerned, the man she had come to kill was just another heretic acting against her God, and she would ensure that he would order the death of his Servant without fail.

She quickly and methodically cleared the upper floors of the church, leaving only the basement. As she slid down the stairs and past the locked and warded door, which was complete child's play to get past, she paused at the sight that greeted her.

Chained up all around to the various walls were children, if they could even be called that. They were all emaciated, with blackened skin, and deadened eyes staring at nothing. They possessed no muscles or fat, making them resemble blackened skeletons more than children. In fact, in most of them the only thing betraying their life was the screaming. Like a chorus of the damned they screamed in agony at their fate. She was surprised that in their state they even had the energy to spare for even that.

While mostly deadened to the suffering of others, it reminded her of the childhood of her God, and she felt hot rage seep through her being. No child deserved to live such a life, and even if she had killed children herself during her life, she had killed them swiftly and as painlessly as possible. A painless death was much better than a life of suffering, after all, and though they had been heretics, she knew it was their ancestors the true sinners, as they had taught their heretic god's ways to them.

Shaking her head, she steeled herself. She would ensure that they would have a painless death, as she knew enough to know that nothing could save them, but for now she had been entrusted with a mission by her God, and she would accomplish his will.

Stepping through the corridor, she eventually ended in a room, her target facing a wall at her left, writing on a desk.

Filled with rage at the atrocities this priest had committed against children so like her god, she activated her Ichor of Reverie. He jerked up at the table, searching for an intruder, but she forced him to sit back down. She then activated his circuits, forcing all of their power into the dozens of command seals in his body, taken from the fallen combatants in the previous wars. The seals lit up, glowing in the semi-darkness of the room, and once she was certain they had all been activated, the manipulated her "puppet" to have him utter the words necessary to ensure the safety of her God.

"Gilgamesh," growled the man, struggling with all his might against her control, but failing, "by the power of my command seals, kill yourself and only yourself. Ensure your death harms no other."

Assassin watched the man of god, her eyes full of contempt, and activated her Noble Phantasm, Raving Shadow Flash. The strands of her black hair rose into the air, lengthened themselves, and extended forward like wraiths, gently wrapping themselves around the immobilized priest until he was fully encased in a veritable cocoon of hair. With but a thought, every strand of her hair turned into a razor sharp cutting instrument and tightened, reducing the priest to a large puddle of blood, which poured down a drain built into the concrete floor.

Once she was certain the man was dead, she shook her head, using some prana to expel the blood from her raven locks. After all, if she was to sleep with her God, she would not do so while reeking of blood.

As she walked back into the room with the children, she decided to pay them each a small mercy. Each was beyond saving, so she gave them a painless death. As she got to the end of the row, one of the prisoners stuck out like a sore thumb among the emaciated youths. This one was much older than the rest, looking to be in her late twenties, with an athletic build and red hair, the only sign of the abuse suffered, the bandaged stump where the unconscious woman's right arm should be. She quickly debated if she should take her or not, but decided to ask her God for His guidance, knowing that He would know what she should do. A quick mental explanation later, he gave her permission to collect the woman and return with her. Much more confidant in her actions, she shattered the chains binding the woman to the wall and carried her out.

-Break-

Silence filled the air in the wake of Gilgamesh's attack on the Emiya manor. Kiritsugu just looked depressed from where he was laying on the spot on the floor the rest had dragged him to when the assault had begun. He had quite liked this house. If the initial sword hadn't completely destroyed the house, the entirety of the vault of Gilgamesh had finished the job. The ground surrounding the little circle of protection Harry had set up was no longer solid. It was completely molten, like lava, from the amount of heat the explosions impacting the shields had produced.

Rider was still cradling Harry from where she had caught him after his fall. Apparently the strain of keeping the shield up during the onslaught had resulted in his bandages slipping off and his bleeding resuming. The second they were sure that the situation was secure, Leanna, Monica, and Joy had rushed over to check on him. His face was pale from the lack of blood and his breathing was a bit ragged, but with time he should be able to make a full recovery.

Once the still unconscious Sakura was stable, Caster ran over to secure her Master. She utilized her Divine Words to close the wound, but the blood loss was something she couldn't fix. They would simply have to take him somewhere for him and Sakura to recover.

"So where do we go now?" Illya asked, still flanked by her Servant and maids.

"Master and Sakura will not like it," Rider said, "but I have an idea of one place we could wait for them to recover from."

-Break-

"What the hell do you mean your house was destroyed?!" Rin shouted at the small army on her doorstep, all composure lost.

"We were attacked by a remnant of the last war, and in his attempt to kill us, he destroyed Emiya's estate. Master and Sakura were injured and we need a place for them to recover. As you have a geass obligating you to render aid and are the last living magus in the city outside our group, we decided that we could seek refuge at your manor until they are stable enough to continue." Replied Saber, her tone cordial, but a hint of steel in her voice. While she would not lower herself to threaten a child, she would not allow her Master and his Servants to live in less than ideal conditions when Rin was obligated to render aid.

Rin just wanted to cry at this point. She had foolishly gotten involved in a war far beyond the scope of her abilities and it kept coming back to bite her in the ass. Now she was magically obligated to shelter sixteen people in her home, any one of whom could easily level the entire manor if the urge struck them.

She reluctantly stepped away from the entrance and permitted them to enter. The procession slowly entered, looking like they had just come out of a warzone. She grudgingly led them to the guest rooms. She could only sputter when all the Servants with the exception of Berserker and Archer joined their Master and her sister in bed, in addition to those three maids of his. Saber had looked hesitant, but had said something about "protecting him from assassination attemptss in the night. That's it, just protecting him," and joined the rest of them, although she, unlike the others, was not naked, wearing some pajamas instead.

The Einzbern girl also climbed into bed, while her pet giant astralized outside the door. Her two maids took a second guest room while Kiritsugu stumbled his way to a third, uninjured but still rather ill. Assassin placed the unconscious woman she had apparently recovered from the church in a fourth guest room, locking the door from the outside as a security measure before rejoining her Master in his bed. Archer took his place on her couch again like he owned the place. She just sighed, wondering how her nice peaceful life turned into this.

-Break-

Harry woke up feeling like his side was on fire. His immediate instinct to reach down and check it was stymied by an unconscious Sakura subconsciously clutching him in a death grip. He discovered that the cause of the pain on his side was the large jagged scar on it, although it was far from being as painful as the large wound that had created said scar. He imagined that Caster had repaired it after the battle with Gilgamesh. He would have to fix that with alchemy soon or the scar would become permanent, as he had enough scars from injuries prior to his discovery of medical alchemy.

Now that the reason for his pain was clear, he wondered why he couldn't feel his right arm, and looked to see Rider claiming it again, but clutching it so tightly that it had fallen asleep. What shocked him was the look on her sleeping face. He had thought that nothing could rattle the purple Servant. With few exceptions, the only emotions she displayed were a laconic stoicism and a warmer, teasing side. Currently, it appeared that she was having a nightmare. He could hear her muttering faintly under her breath, "No, Master. Please don't die. We need you." It appeared that she had not taken well to him getting injured.

Leaning over as much as his position and the rather tight hold his Servants, Homonculi, and Sakura had on him, he gently whispered:

"Shhhh…It's all right, Rider. I'm here, I promise."

This earned him a slightly contented look, and the bone-crushing grip lessened.

Sighing in relief, and looking past her, he saw the latest addition to his bed asleep. He wasn't really surprised to see that she was, unlike his other Servants, clothed, since his impression was that she was far from being comfortable enough to sleep naked, like his other Servants did. It was understandable, as unlike Rider, Caster, or Assassin, who had lived as women, from the day she had withdrawn Caliburn from the stone, Saber had been forced to live as a man, and had taken every possible precaution to avoid people discovering that their King was a woman. Therefore, she was extremely uncomfortable in any clothes that did not cover her body completely, and lacked confidence in herself as a woman, since she had always had to be proud as a "man". A large part of her life had seen her destroying every thought of herself being female, and trying to convince everyone, even herself, that she was a good King, so it would be a long time before she was comfortable enough to wear clothes that truly showed her female beauty. So the sight of the typically noble Saber cuddling up with Monica in her sleep brought a smile to his face.

When he looked down and saw Assassin still awake, she informed him mentally that she had taken the woman recovered from the church and stored her in another guest room. He made sure to thank her, both for recovering the woman, and for saving their lives, making the devoted woman blush as she reaffirmed her grip on his leg, and continued to stare at him with nothing but pure adoration in her eyes, while he tried to shut out the feeling of being watched while he was in bed.

Caster shifted in her sleep, slightly pulling on his leg. She too looked to be having a nightmare, and it took him sending as much soothing emotions and words through their link to have her calm down.

The three homunculi had moved in even closed than they usually did, though whether it was because this bed was slightly smaller than the one at the Emiya estate or because they were seeking comfort he couldn't tell. Illya was still curled up between him and Rider like a cat. She had her face buried in his uninjured side and her arms carefully wrapped around him so that she didn't hurt him.

He had been lucky that this was the only real confrontation he'd had so far in the war if this was how those close to him reacted to him getting injured. He wouldn't let them suffer because of the Grail any longer.

"Tomorrow," he silently vowed to himself, "The War will end. No matter the cost."


	9. Chapter 9: The Fisher King

**Hello again readers! Neolyph here to bring you another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. I'll be brief since I don't have too much to say. This chapter and one more probably until the end of the Grail war arc. It's coming a bit late, but almost twice as long as usual. As always, thanks to all who read, review, follow and favorite. You guys are my reason for writing. Also, in case anyone's curious, the homunculi's battle outfits are Lust's from FMA. Since their appearances are based on Lust, I figured they should dress like her too.**

 **Also, one of the lines in this story is a reference to one of my favorite books. Anyone who can point it out in a review gets an internet cookie.**

 **I'm just putting this in every chapter until the Hogwarts arc. There is a poll on my profile on whether to make this a WBWL story with Harry's parents alive and him possessing some kind of dickish twin/brother who either is the actual Boy who Lived, or at least everyone thinks he is. Voting will end when I start writing the Hogwarts section.**

 **Now, for reviews**

 **Delta8: I assume you are referring to the orphans. If so, Gilgamesh was draining their very souls to sustain himself. Even if the children's bodies could be healed, they would be either completely insane or catatonic. It was much more merciful to simply end it. Yeah, the fight was a bit lackluster, but one: In a straight up fight against a serious Gilgamesh, Harry would get his ass handed to him. Two: Harry is a Slytherin. It's only natural to find a way around directly fighting someone like Gilgamesh.**

 **xYuukito: Ichor of Reverie. It essentially lets her take control of a foe's magical circuits and turn them into a puppet. It was what she used to hijack Zouken's worms.**

 **Akuma-Heika: Archer is busy trying to track down and kill Shirou Emiya. Considering he doesn't even exist in this verse, he doesn't have much of a reason to be there. Archer is basically a washed-up counter guardian. He is just an old, cynical man who has just run out of fucks to give. Kirei kept Bazett alive to add one more source of prana for Gilgamesh. That statement about the sword was referring to when he created it prior to his becoming a True Magician. Diamond is the hardest naturally occurring substance. Technically, matter is almost infinitely compressable, which is something you can do with alchemy. Reinforcement is filling the uncompressed gaps with prana. Not everything Gilgamesh shot at them was a Noble Phantasm. Some were things like Rule Breaker and completely unsuited for killing. Fixed that line, confusion with edits. See reply to Delta8**

 **Thundramon: Yup. Bazett is a redhead. Ability to record created items is noted in chapter 1.**

 **Joe Lawyer: I'll say it again, Harry has cunning. The knife Gilgamesh used was a Babylonian sacrificial dagger. He viewed it as one of the only weapons he possessed worthy to end his own life.**

 **Raidentensho: Not really a Kamen Rider fan.**

 **YuukiAsuna-Chan: Illya will get love, just brotherly love. Maybe she'll work out a pairing of her own.**

 **kkjkk: Harry is independent and cunning enough to guide his own life. People will learn that very quickly.**

 **Guest: Don't actually know who Scathath is, so probably not including her.**

 **Guest: No Ruler either I don't think. No more Servants will be summoned unless I get a really good idea.**

 **armahgeddon: Harry saw red, but he also has a very tight reign on his emotions. When he gets truly pissed, he gets calm. Then he simply sics Assassin on whatever the problem is, which generally seems to be working so far.**

 **Caelleh: Yeah, the sword is cool, but it's not the super-weapon you think it is. It essentially enables him to rip off Rin's jewelcraft, but it isn't disposable and it doubles as a sword. It's not that powerful, considering.**

 **Silent Reader: Well, I don't want to spoil the next chapter, but I will say this: Mainyu isn't going down without a fight, and this time, there's no clever tactic to take him out. Like Gilgamesh, I always thought that the literal representation of evil was a bit underpowered in canon.**

 **Pedo: ... you should probably see someone about that. Also, one again, we'll see.**

Chapter 9: The Fisher King

 _"Honestly, at this point, I should just get used to waking up in strange situations."_ Thought Harry, looking at his surroundings, which happened to be the same garden he had met Gaia in.

It was the same clearing he had eaten the apple that turned him into a True Magician. Since he had little better to do, he figured that he might as well do some more exploring in this strange forest, figuring that whatever entity had dragged him there would show themselves in time. As he rose, he was immediately struck back down and pinned by a black blur. Bracing himself for what was coming did little to help as a tongue the size of a dinner tray started a valiant effort to soak him from head to toe in drool.

"Midnight! Down!" he called in a vain attempt to get the midnight black direwolf to ease off him. It didn't seem to work as the wolf redoubled its' apparent attempts to reduce him to a soaking mess. Obviously, it had missed him, and fully intended to show him.

It was several more minutes before the wolf calmed down enough to give him some breathing room, and as it did so, he took advantage of the opportunity to start scratching the massive animal behind the ears. The beast melted under his ministrations, rolling off him and onto its back, presenting its belly to be rubbed, acting not like a dangerous animal, but like a common, domesticated dog. Not wanting it to return to its previous activities, he obliged Midnight, hoping that it would distract the direwolf enough that it didn't try to resume his previous activity.

It struck him as amusing that here he was, in a jungle of mystery, sitting in front of a bloodthirsty wolf larger than a horse, and calmly giving it a belly rub. He just sighed, wondering how his life had gotten to this point. Then he remembered that his life had never been normal, ever since he had met Zelretch, like the aged man was the catalyst that had thrown his life on an utterly insane course.

At some point in his musings, he had apparently stopped in his rubbing, because he was interrupted by the enormous direwolf whining pathetically and nudging his hand with its nose. From this position, his knowledge of anatomy kicked in and he identified the wolf as a female. He inwardly sighed. It seemed that even in his dreams, he was forever doomed to attract the attention of female beings. If things kept going like this, he would soon start to identify any newcomer in his life as a female, just because Fate had apparently decreed that it was destiny to be surrounded by females.

"So girl, what do you say we look around a bit more?"

For a wolf, she had a very expressive face, as she looked torn between having him continue his petting and the joy of taking a walk with him. Eventually, an idea seemed to form in her brain, and quicker than he could react, her teeth clamped around the back of his shirt and she gently lifted him before placing him on her back like he was riding a very furry horse. She then scratched at her ears, whining. He quickly understood the implied intention and he started scratching behind her ears again as she happily started off at a slow trot.

Having investigated the apple tree the last time he was here, he decided to go to the opposite end of the clearing and check out the ruined archway with the door built into it. Pointing Midnight in the direction of it, she started off towards it, despite whining in protest. Along the way, they passed the workshop in the center of the clearing, and he took the chance to examine it while he was there. Once his impromptu mount halted at the base of the raised stone platform that served as the base and floor of the workshop, he climbed up the stairs to the workshop itself.

It was the sort of workshop most magi would slaughter an entire nation for. Surrounding him were workbenches, toolkits, cabinets full of rare and expensive supplies, and hundreds of various implements and stations that even with his knowledge of magecraft he could not fathom the purpose of. The most prominent part of the workshop was the centerpiece: the forge. It was a forge worthy of Hephaestus himself, looking as if it had been crafted by artisans who scorned the idea of mere _mortal_ perfection. Every inch of its surface was a work of art in itself, so utterly perfect that it almost felt _wrong_ , for his brain _knew_ no such perfection was possible, yet here it was. The warmth from it filled him with a profound peace, and he had to resist the urge to fall asleep in its embrace. He almost missed Midnight quietly prowling up in front of it and laying down right by the grate like a cat warming itself in the sun or on a heating vent.

He took a couple more minutes to look around, examining the assorted tools before reaching the conclusion that it would take months to understand every implement in this masterful workshop. Preparing to leave, he went over to the wolf, shaking her awake from where she had fallen asleep. If a wolf could convey a reproachful look, she would have. This was instantly forgotten as he started rubbing her behind the ears again and he had to duck as a paw twitched involuntarily and nearly sent him sprawling. Now awake and cooperative, Midnight repeated her earlier action and lifted him onto her back, before reluctantly taking off in the direction of the archway.

Several minutes later, Harry found himself standing before the structure. What intrigued him about it was that, aside from the workshop, it appeared to be the only man-made structure in this entire forest. It was crumbling, completely overrun with moss and vines, giving it a very dark and Gothic look. The door was not much better. It was as if the architect had been called in and given specific instruction, "We want something eldritch in a dark oak," he'd been told, "So put an unpleasant gargoyle thing over the archway, give it a slam like the footfall of a giant, and make it clear to everyone, in fact, that this isn't the sort of door that goes 'ding dong' when your ring the bell."

Inscribed on the door were various depictions of monsters, scenes of brutal battle and slaughter, and images of dark, sacrificial rituals the likes of which he had never seen before, but would have severely mentally scarred him had he not experienced the wonders of Zouken's worm pit. Just being near the door gave him a dreadful sense of foreboding. He was reminded of the fact that Midnight was right behind him, tensed, as if ready to throw herself at any threat that came through the heavy door.

Deep inside his head, he felt a calling of sorts, something that had grown stronger the closer he had gotten to the archway. It wasn't like the calling that had drawn him to the tree last time, the call that promised knowledge and wonder. This calling was darker, and more tempting. It promised power, unmatched and unlimited power, and the freedom to do with it as he pleased.

Power.

The power to make gods bow in fealty, to raise the entire world and rebuild it at a whim, to never have to feel weak or helpless again, to never be hurt again.

To protect the ones he loved, to tear apart those that would harm them in any way.

Against his better instincts, he grabbed the handle of the door, unlocked it, and pulled. The door slowly creaked open, all the while screaming on its hinges like it hadn't been oiled in a thousand years. Once the entryway was clear, he cautiously peered in.

Blackness.

He thought he understood that word, but he was woefully mistaken. Blackness isn't simply the absence of light. It isn't what you get when you turn out the lights in your room. It isn't what you see when you close your eyes. That is darkness, not blackness. He dawned on him what that word truly meant as he gazed into the abyss before him. True blackness wasn't simply the absence of light, it is the anti-light. He gazed long into the abyss as he pondered his musings. As he stared, the calling started again, whispering seductively in his mind, promising him everything he had ever wanted. Subconsciously answering its call, he stepped forward to enter the void.

The second his foot touched the black, pain hit him. It wasn't the pain he had felt with the apple, the pain of his nerves being converted into magical implements. Instead it was as if something was inside his head, clawing and scratching its way into the center, trying to take over, to drown him in blackness, to corrupt him so utterly that he would be the living embodiment of evil. Instantly, he concentrated and tried to remove the threat, the intrusion bouncing around his head, as if trying to take control it. And despite his best efforts, Harry simply couldn't stop it. Slow it down, perhaps, but not stop it, for every dark thought he had ever had only fueled the intrusion. As it dug deeper into his brain, he started to see flashes of memories. What was odd, was that some of them didn't seem to be his own. Each was little more than a snapshot, but he saw them.

A young boy sitting on a cot in a dreary concrete room, a narrow window nearly at the ceiling showed that it was raining outside as he talked with an old man with a white beard and a twinkle in his eye.

The same young boy, slightly older, walked down an enormous cavern, with statues of snakes' heads on both sides of the path and a large carving of an elderly man at the end.

The now familiar boy was sitting at a desk with a quill, looking at the letters of his name and rearranging them. So far he had gotten, "I am Lord..."

The young boy, now aged and experienced, strolled confidently across the threshold of a house with several masked people in tow, before casting a green light from a stick he wielded at the elderly owners of the house.

The man stalked through a house, wand in hand, reaching a cracked doorway. He opened it to see a young, red haired woman desperately shielding something behind her. He raised his wand, a sickly green light glowing from the end of it. The sound of a baby crying could be heard.

At that memory, Harry's scar started burning. He ripped himself from the torrent of memories as he felt something tighten around his chest and pull him backwards. With a yank, he flew through the air. Dazed, it took him a moment to realize that Midnight had gently clamped her teeth around him and pulled him from the doorway. The giant wolf then head-butted the doorway, slamming it shut. She then padded over and laid down beside him, resting her enormous head in his lap in a comforting fashion. He began stroking her, before falling asleep.

Neither of them remembered to lock the door.

-Break-

When Harry woke up, he immediately noticed that he was significantly less weighed down than he had slowly grown accustomed to. He opened his eyes and looked to his left to see Sakura still holding on to him, her sickly pale complexion from the previous night gone, and he left out a sigh of relief at her recovery. He noticed that everyone else in the bed was gone, with the exception of whomever was on his right arm, but judging from the monstrous breasts enveloping it, he had an inkling as to who it was.

"Assassin, you're a bit higher up than usual. Something wrong?" he asked, making sure not to sound like she had displeased him. He was perfectly aware of just how devoted and zealous the woman was, and if she thought she had displeased him in any way, she might take extreme actions to feel deserving of his forgiveness. He turned to see his black haired Servant eyeing him like a hawk, concern for him in her grey eyes, along with guilt. She instantly started gushing apologies.

"You had a nightmare, Master. I humbly beg your forgiveness for being so forward as to attempt to comfort you with my body. I will accept whatever punishment you-"

Having had enough of her self-deprecation, he interrupted her with what usually worked: a soft kiss on the lips. While it seemed that while she would almost never initiate anything herself, if he did, she responded with a frightening amount of vigor. He realized this as the second his own lips touched hers, she shoved her tongue in his mouth while she slid up and straddled him, never breaking contact with his mouth once as while seemingly attempting to suck his tongue out with the passion she put into the kiss. She stayed latched onto his face for a solid minute, and by the time she finished, she was panting heavily and flushing a bright red.

"Uhhh, Assassin, could you get off me?" he asked gently after a few minutes, noticing that she wasn't making any move to get off his waist.

She didn't seem to hear in as she was in some apparent deliriously happy state, so he repeated the question. This time she seemed to hear him as she blushed a bit more and slid back into the position she had been in previously, re-immersing his arm in her breasts. It took another pointed look before she caught on that he wanted to get out of bed, so she stood off the bed, deastralizing her seductive black hooded dress, before taking her usual submissive stance at attention in the corner, regaining the emotionless appearance she maintained when 'on duty' as it were.

He just sighed at her instant personality change and woke Sakura up. She opened her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the light. She yawned as she sat up, her usually immaculate purple hair stuck up in an adorable bedhead. As she focused on him and gave him that dazzling smile of hers that could melt the heart of Satan himself, he couldn't help himself as he gave her a chaste kiss on her pink lips. Her smile only grew, nearly blinding him with the radiance it gave off as she stood and got dressed in her usual purple dress with white trim, matching her hair and eyes.

Once they were done, he got dressed himself in his black pants, green button up, and black coat. Most children his age would consider the attire a bit formal, but being raised in the Matou household by the old man Zouken, he had learned to appreciate fine clothes. Once they were all dressed, a question occurred to him.

"Assassin, where is everybody else, and why were you the only one here besides Sakura?"

Sakura too looked on curiously, the question bothering her as well.

His normally devoted and straightforward Servant looked oddly evasive as she answered.

"You seemed very tired due to your injuries last night, Master. Caster recommended that we allow you and Sakura to sleep so you could better recover from your injuries, so everyone left," she answered succinctly.

"Then why were you the only one still here when I woke up?" he asked, picking up on her evasion.

She looked down, face red, and mumbled something quietly.

"What was that?" he asked, trying his best not to groan at what he had heard.

"I utilized my presence concealment to slip back into bed with you when nobody was paying attention," she said, looking ashamed.

Seeing a grown woman with the blood of hundreds, possibly thousands on her hands acting like a schoolgirl caught staring at her crush deflated whatever irritation had been building up in him, as he just sighed with lighthearted exasperation and patted her on the head comfortingly. This was made slightly amusing as she was significantly taller than him, and he could barely reach her head. The second his hand made contact though, it appeared that she lost control again, dropping to her knees and submersing his face in her breasts as she hugged him tightly. He sputtered and flailed as Sakura got jealous and tried to pull him away from the amorous Assassin, unsuccessfully, which resulted in them all falling backwards into a pile.

It was at this moment that Saber walked in. Instead of her usual battle dress, she wore a rather conservative old fashioned blue dress that matched her armor. From its appearance, he guessed that it was actually just what she wore whenever she was not wearing said armor, since it bore a striking resemblance to it, and she did strike him as someone who would always favor simple, yet practical clothes, that gave her a stern aura. It took her about three seconds of stunned analysis of the situation before her face lit up red in embarrassment and she hauled Assassin off of him, launching into a lecture about "proper behavior for a Servant in the Holy Grail War" and the like. He could see that Assassin was completely ignoring the chastisement, as she usually did when anyone but himself spoke.

By the time the lecture was finished, ending with a monologue about knightly virtues and decency, which once again was ignored by its target, Saber was comically bopping Assassin in the head with a wooden spoon she had produced from somewhere. Harry could barely contain his amusement at watching the very petite Servant dragging over a stool so that she could reach the head of the much taller Assassin. It was also not lost to him that the King of Knights was trying to impress knightly virtues on someone who came from a line of people who worked on principles that were the complete opposite of honor and such.

"So. Saber, what exactly did you come in here for?" he finally asked.

Mid bop, said Servant paused at remembering her purpose in entering the room. She stepped off the stool, straightening her dress.

"Ah, yes. I came to inform you and Sakura that breakfast was ready before I was distracted by this shameless Servant. Honestly, doing something like that to a child. It is a mockery of knighthood," she ranted, not noticing or deliberately ignoring her own hypocrisy at having slept in bed with the same child.

At the mention of breakfast, his stomach growled, reminding him that his dinner had been interrupted by Gilgamesh, and that he was starving. Then that hunger went away as he thought of his maids cooking. Leanna, Monica, and Joy were excellent maids, wonderful at everything they did, with the unfortunate exception of cooking. He had actually derived a few alchemical formulae from their attempts at a _soufflé_. The two more reasonable ones seemed to understand their limitations perfectly well, leaving the cooking to him, but Leanna in her cheerful stubbornness refused to accept that she was unable to cook, and kept trying to learn new recipes. He had somewhat taken pity on her and attempted to teach her cooking, but it was so far, largely unsuccessful. It wasn't until a try at pancakes, which ended with something better resembling a loaf of half-burnt, syrupy bread, that he had admitted that maybe some people just couldn't cook. Leanna still came to him once in a while to try again, and he always helped her, but he winced every time he thought back on the attempts. Eventually, he had tasked Monica with keeping her distracted whenever he started cooking so that she didn't attempt to involve herself. She had dutifully accepted the job, not wanting to be exposed to Leanna's chemical weapons.

"Uhh, Saber, who cooked exactly?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to not look nervous.

"Caster and Rider primarily. Caster seemed to take great pleasure in it for reasons I cannot fathom," she replied.

He let out a sigh of relief, knowing that his stomach would survive another day. He loved his maids to death, but put them in a kitchen and they could start the next World War. He just hoped that his Servants were better at cooking than the maids. After all, being a legendary figure did not have to equal with "talented cook".

"Alright then, let's eat!" he exclaimed enthusiastically as he left the room. Saber followed right behind him on his left side, eager at the prospect of food, while Assassin dutifully followed him a few steps behind, on his right. Sakura sleepily walked beside him, still looking half asleep and more than a little haggard, a sight that made her natural cuteness almost shoot through the roof.

As he walked into the kitchen of the Tohsaka manor, he was greeted with another strange sight. Caster, The Witch of Betrayal, one of the most treacherous and malicious women in history, infamous for her scheming, manipulations, and assassinations, was sitting in front of a stove wearing a white turtleneck, an ankle length blue skirt, and a pink apron while humming to herself and flipping crepes. She looked the very image of a stereotypical housewife, an image only broken by her pointy ears, the only reminder that she was not, in fact, normal, in any sense of the word.

Rider, for her part, was setting the table, dressed in a tight black shirt and black jeans, along with an identical pink apron. That was even weirder. Caster was at least human in life, but Rider was a Gorgon, a monster that despised and hated humanity. She spent most of her life gleefully devouring humans, and likely would again if he ever asked her to. Seeing someone who could only be called a monster for her actions in life like that, putting plates on the table dressed in a frilly pink apron was just too much for him to handle. By the end of this war, he just knew he would be completely desensitized to absurdity. What was next? Assassin trying the "naked apron"? While he didn't know for sure what such thing was, he could easily make a guess based on the name alone, and he was quite certain that if his overzealous Servant heard about it, she would almost certainly try it.

Monica was at the table, still in her maid uniform, obviously doing her duty in distracting Leanna. He gave her a thankful nod of appreciation, which she returned. Then Leanna noticed him and leapt up to hug him.

"Master! We wanted to surprise you by cooking! Do you like it? I would have helped, but Monica wouldn't let me," she pouted, all while crushing his ribs with the hug and covering his face with kisses.

"Good morning Leanna," he greeted the Homunculus, barely able to breathe, "Did you sleep well?"

"I would have, but I was too worried about you Master. I was tossing and turning all night. It's alright though, because you're here now! Now we get to eat breakfast!" she said, putting him down and taking a seat at the table.

At this moment, Caster turned from her stove, looking completely content.

"You know, Master, I never thought that I could find joy in simply being a housewife. Maybe that should have been my goal for the war," she mused, twirling around in her skirt and apron rather cutely, a large smile on her face.

"It certainly looks good on you Caster," he remarked, causing her to blush. It seemed that the compliment pleased her to no end, since at the very least this time it was from someone she actually _wanted_ to help, instead of a husband she had been made to love by the Gods.

"Alright then. Please enjoy breakfast. Rider and I worked very hard on it. Even Saber pitched in," she added.

Rin simply watched this interaction, eye twitching all the while. What in the Root was wrong with these Servants? Two of them were wearing aprons and acting like housewives, one was a tiny cross-dressing king, and the fourth had casually declared early this morning that it was her duty to be Harry's sex slave, or something like that, despite the fact that he wasn't even a teen yet.

She just went slack, head thumping on the table as a motherfucking Caster class Servant set a plate of fruit crepes in front of her, swishing her skirt and apron. Could this be some kind of demented joke from that "Zelretch" her father had warned her about? She didn't see _why_ the man would be interested in pranking her, but from what she had gathered he was not the most stable of individuals, and this was when compared to a community of people who were all quite insane in their own ways.

"You know," Harry commented, "these crepes are really good."

"Thank you very much Master," Caster and Rider said simultaneously, both visibly preening at the praise.

After having seconds, then thirds, Harry pushed his plate aside. Fortunately, his Servants had made plenty, taking into account both his and their fellow Servants' appetites. All of the women at the table with the exception of Rin took occasional potshots at Assassin for skipping out on the cooking to slip back into bed with him. It had been a bit selfish, so he didn't intervene. Assassin didn't really seem to care from her post at his shoulder. After all, the scolding wasn't coming from the only one that mattered to her, so why should she care? Archer just watched the entire proceedings with that eternally amused expression on his face, chowing down on some of the food. Saber seemed disappointed that the dish wasn't quite as good as his own cooking, but let it go and ate. Hunger was the enemy after all.

"So, just out of curiosity, where did all of you get those clothes? Did you go shopping or something?" Harry asked, looking around at the various clothes his Servants were sporting.

"Ah, I made them Master. They remarked that they would like some new outfits and I thought that making them would be a good practice for my alchemy," his maid replied efficiently, only pausing from the book she was reading from in one hand while eating with the other to glance up at him as she spoke.

"I see. Well done. They appear to be of good quality. I presume Rin provided the materials?"

Said Magus nodded, still looking disturbed by the scene unfolding around her.

"Thank you for that. Your cooperation is appreciated," he said coldly, noticing Sakura's continued glares at her sister. He made a note to send Assassin to covertly wreck all the gems in Rin's workshop once the war was done. That would probably cheer the purple haired girl up. While it was cruel, and certainly less than honorable of him to do so when Rin had helped them, in his mind she was still due with a _lot_ of payback for her abandonment of her sister. While Sakura had taken it hard, he himself remembered all too well his feelings of abandonment when he had been at the Dursleys, so the Tohsaka Magus wouldn't be getting any sympathy from him.

"You know, you could stand to be a little more grateful. I welcome you into my home, let you sleep in my beds, let you eat my food, and you still act like you own me. Honestly, you should be down on your knees kissing my feet for what I'm doing for you. Most magi would have stolen your command seals in your sleep," at this, the Servants all tensed, irritated at her absurd notion that she could sneak past the seven of them.

"All I'm saying is that you owe me after all of this is done. I think some of your mystic codes should do. I have always wanted a homunculus slave," she remarked, not noticing the narrowing of Harry's eyes.

A sudden chill went through the room, causing everyone from Sakura to Berserker off in the corner to shiver. Harry calmly reached up and removed his glasses. As he did, his warm, caring green eyes seemed to be transformed into pits of green hellfire. His once carefree and relaxed posture was now predatory and dangerous, like a snake coiled to strike. Overall, he went from a carefree ten years old to a powerful and frightening magus, ready to destroy an enemy. It seemed that Rin needed to be reminded of her position in the food chain in the house.

"Is that so Rin?"

All of the air in the room seemed to still as he spoke, his voice colder than ice, completely emotionless and inflectionless. This time the shivering had nothing to do with the cold.

"Could you do me a favor and explain exactly what I owe you? Because last I checked, you had a geass scroll obligating you to render aid. I could justify that getting on your knees and licking the floor clean would aid me and the scroll would force you to do it. You deserve nothing for your aid in this war. You signed the scroll because you are a foolish, childish, and petty individual who jumped into a war of life and death like it was a goddamn game where everyone would abide by the rules perfectly and everything would work out perfectly for you.

You signed that scroll when you realized how stupid you were, trading your participation in exchange for protection. You are nothing but a bratty, arrogant heiress who thinks that being born into a magus family makes you better than others. You are _not_ , so let me be the first to inform you, if you ever insult or degrade my maids, or anyone else I associate with again, I will consider making you beat yourself into unconsciousness and lighting your workshop on fire as _aid_ in this war. Do _not_ test me again. Am I understood?"

Rin sat quivering at the lecture, before shakingly nodding her head. Harry put his glasses back on and instantly it was like nothing had happened. He simply went back to his drink.

It was official, Harry was even scarier than his maids.

-Break-

Harry wasn't entirely sure what had just happened. Rin had casually demanded his homunculi as slaves and he just sort of snapped. He had a strange urge to remove his glasses and it was like all feelings of empathy or remorse were drained from his system, leaving him a ruthless pragmatist. He would need to figure out what caused that. It certainly wasn't normal. He usually had a very tight grip on his emotions after all. Maybe the stress from the war was just getting to him. If it was, fortunately it would end today.

"Alright," he began, "as everyone knows, today marks the end of this war. We laid out a plan yesterday before the attack, and today we can execute it. In case anyone had forgotten, here is the plan. At the Ryuudo Temple, Caster will hypnotize the monks into leaving, then Illya and I will summon the Grail. Once it is fully manifested, Saber and Archer will hit it with Excalibur on full power. Everyone else works security. Any questions?"

Nobody responded.

"Alright. Everyone gear up for combat. We leave in half an hour."

With that, he stood up and strolled out to prepare himself.

-Break-

Everyone gathered in the living room of Rin's manor. There was a sort of quiet tenseness, like a camp before battle. Everyone was going over their equipment, ensuring its readiness for the upcoming fight. Rider was dressed again in her battle outfit, checking her chained daggers, despite the fact that being her weapon, they could not be anything but in pristine condition.

Caster wore her robe again and was filling her staff with prana for attacks. Assassin solemnly stood at Harry's shoulder as he carved wardstones to protect Illya and Sakura. They worked as personal bounded fields of sorts. Hopefully, they would keep out the corruption of the Grail, and even if they didn't, so long as they slowed it enough, he would consider them a success.

His Homunculi maids soon joined them, although they had foregone their usual attire, choosing to wear more appropriate clothing for the upcoming battle. They were all wearing strapless dresses of black leather, the material only covering up to just over half of their breasts. The sides had generous slits, nearly going up to the waist, allowing both freedom of movement and a generous view of their legs. They also wore black leather arm gloves, extending all the way up to their upper elbows, the gloves themselves accented by red lines stretching across them with circles on both ends. They also wore the usual black leather high heels they typically wore with their maid uniforms, their supernatural nature allowing them to walk with them just as well as if they were wearing combat boots. Leanna and Joy were both tightly gripping the retractable batons he had made them, while Monica was wielding the large collapsible staff she had made as a magical focus to help her channel prana for combat. He also noticed that they were the same gloves they had asked him to add retractable claws to, in the event that they lost their weapons and needed to defend themselves.

Harry was impressed. It was the first time he had seen them outside maid uniforms since he had created them, and he was reminded that despite being Homunculi, they were also beautiful women in their own right. He wasn't exactly sure where these outfits came from or who designed them, but he suspected Monica had a hand in it. Still, he had nothing to say about them, as they seemed to allow for good freedom of movement, and he could also tell that despite their rather provocative look, they were heavily reinforced, so that they would provide a decent amount of protection.

Saber sat on Harry's left side, once again donned in her full battle dress, looking the very image of a loyal knight ready to defend her lord. There was a quiet determination in her eyes, the resolve to see the corrupted Grail destroyed once and for all, no matter the cost, and no matter what she had to do. She had learnt what the previous attempt to destroy it had resulted in, and she had vowed that such an instrument of destruction could not be allowed to exist any longer, especially not when it was disguised as an all-powerful, wish-granting device.

Archer sat on a couch, holding those black and white swords he had used before, looking bored. Looking being the key word, as it was abundantly clear that he was ready to fight at a moment's notice. Despite his unknown background, it was all too clear that he was a war veteran, and that no matter how relaxed he may appear, he was always ready to act should he need to.

Illya was wearing the dress Harry had first met her in, cheerfully humming a tune and looking entirely unconcerned for the upcoming combat, then again considering her Servant, she had good reason not to be worried. Her two maids sat at her side, both wearing their formal English maid outfits with large hoods. Both wielded large alchemically created halberds as they flanked their mistress. Berserker sat behind her, holding his giant stone slab and sending vicious and threatening glances towards Kiritsugu, who while not going on the mission, was still there to see everyone off.

Sakura was still wearing the outfit she had initially dressed herself in, the white-trimmed purple dress. She seemed to more worried than Illya, but she was also a much more compassionate person. Illya would only really care if Harry, Kiritsugu, or Sakura got hurt. Strangely, she and Sakura started to get along quite well. She had even taken to occasionally calling her "Big Sister", an action that had the purple-haired girl blushing to the root of her hair.

The alarm on Harry's watch went off, breaking the silence. He gave one last look around the room, knowing that this might be the last time he ever saw this place if the mission went wrong.

"Everyone ready? Good. Let's go."

-Break-

Ryuudo Temple was a very nice building. It was the epitome of a traditional Japanese Buddhist temple, set at the top of a large mountain and only accessible by a very large gate. Coincidentally, due to the holy nature of the temple, the gate was the only route by which spiritual beings could enter it. After a long ascent to the gate and passing through it without incident, Caster went off to clear the place of monks, hypnotizing them into thinking that now would be a perfect time for a week-long vacation. It was ridiculously easy for them to overcome what mental discipline the priests had, since no matter how much control they had over their mind, they were no Magus, and even then, there was little they could do to overcome the mental power of a Servant, especially one who was backed up by a True Magician.

Once the monks were cleared out, and that they had all taken their designed positions, he and Illya prepared to summon the Grail.

The Einzbern Magus carefully drew out a massive and incredibly intricate circle in the main courtyard of the temple, which would serve to materialize the Grail. Normally, it would require the energy of seven Servants to fully power it up, but by powering it directly with his prana, Harry could bypass that, even if it would leave him severely weakened. No matter how powerful he was, the energy required to summon the Grail was still supposed to be enough to grant any wish, no matter how outlandish, so it was little wonder it would drain even him.

It took Illya a good hour to finish the circle, most of it written in either her own blood or an amalgamation of paint and metal. One it was finished, she stepped back and Harry took a position in the center of the circle, since his role would be to power it. Archer and Saber manifested their swords, aiming them both towards the center.

At a nod from everyone, Harry knelt and placed both hands on the circle. He flared his circuits, keeping careful control over them to ensure that the Grail only got _just_ enough prana to manifest. He didn't want it getting any more than necessary, as he had an inkling that things would already be quite difficult with even such "little" power. The circle began glowing, the lines on it began moving as the magical energy flowed through and they writhed like worms, basking in his prana, making him shiver as he was reminded of Zouken's crest worms.

A dark, ominous, and strangely familiar feeling suddenly filled the air. Harry checked and confirmed that the circle now had enough prana to perform the ritual. Making to dash out of the circle so as to provide with Archer and Saber a clear line of sight to strike the soon to be materialized Grail, he found that he suddenly couldn't move, his arms stuck on the circle, unable to move. He struggled against the hold as hard as he could, but he was completely restrained. The ominous feeling seemed to creep into his mind, and suddenly he recognized it. It was the same feeling from when he opened the door in the garden. The feeling slithered around his consciousness, tainting everything it touched with its corruption, like black ink spilling over a blank page, slowly tainting it until it was but a twisted mockery of what it once was. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't even move as his very _soul_ was violated by the corruption, twisting his mind. Soon, where there had been nothing but the desire to protect those he loved, Harry's mind turned to thoughts of murder, of torturing Rin, of breaking her for her abandonment of Sakura. He saw himself ordering his Servants to use their Noble Phantasms to burn Fuyuki to the ground, as punishment for the residents who had done _nothing_ to save Sakura and him from their Hell at Zouken's hands, the Heroic Spirits forced to comply by the humongous amount of prana he used to issue his commands.

No matter how hard he fought, he was slowly being drowned in the utter blackness and evil that he now recognized as Angra Mainyu, the God of Evil Kiritsugu had met in the last war, just before the Fuyuki fire. Eventually, he felt himself drowning in the wave of darkness and evil, and he knew no more.

-Break-

With Harry's Servants, they were panicking. All was well until Harry finished powering the circle and froze, instead of trying to flee, his suddenly panicked face telling them that something had gone very, _very_ wrong. Then he clutched his head as a red miasma began to form above him, just before his mouth opened, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream of utter _agony_.

Sakura could only watch in horror as the person she loved the most writhed in agony inside the circle, his screams even worse than her own when she had first been inside the worm pit. Trying to help Harry, she tried to rush for him and drag him out of the circle, despite the Servants' protests, but before she could even enter the circle, she was thrown back violently by what appeared to be a bounded field, trapping the light of her life inside the circle, and forcing her to watch as he screamed himself raw. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she clenched her fists in despair, screaming for Harry, the only thing she could do as he was slowly driven mad by the miasma inside the circle.

-Break-

Blackness.

Wait, Harry had been here before, but when?

And who was Harry?

Wait, he was Harry. Or was he?

Another name seemed to be there, Tom.

Everything was a bit fuzzy.

Then suddenly, it started flooding back to him. The full memories of two individuals.

Harry James Potter.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Which one was he though? Both sets of memories were there.

He belonged to two worlds, a moonlit world, a wizard world.

Tom's memories struck at him, enveloping him in ruthlessness and willpower. Tom did whatever he wanted or needed to, Tom could protect the ones he loved.

Wait, who did Tom love?

Harry had people he loved and wanted to protect.

Then Harry struck back. Harry loved and was loved. Harry also had great power. Greater than Tom. Harry did not need Tom, but Tom needed Harry. Tom needed Harry's power.

A battle raged in his head between a boy and a villain, fighting for control.

Eventually, they came to a draw. Neither could drive out the other.

Tom was willing to make a deal. Harry had unmatched strength, Tom had unsurpassed force of mind.

Power for will to use it.

If Harry let Tom have a bit of slack, Tom would do what Harry wanted.

They both agreed.

Then Harry woke up.

-Break-

Harry became aware of a great weight on him. He sighed in relief that he had woken up in bed with Sakura, Illya, and his Servants. Then something tickled his nose. He swatted at it. It took him a few seconds to realize that his arms weren't restrained. Confused, he opened his eyes and instead of the ceiling, he saw the concerned face of a massive wolf leaning over him, paw on his chest. He shot up, or at least tried to under the paw the size of a garbage lid.

Without a word or command, Midnight backed off him. It seemed that something had her enough on edge that her usual playfulness was gone.

"Something wrong girl?"

He was interrupted from getting a reply as something moved.

Normally, in this forest, that wasn't really a concern. Everything in the forest was alive after all. The problem however, was that these weren't the footsteps of an animal.

They were the footsteps of a man.

He bolted up at Midnight put herself between him and the sound, letting out a warning growl. At first, he couldn't see anything in the dense brush in front of him as it entirely obscured anything inside it.

Without a sound, a black-clad figure charged from the undergrowth. The word 'figure' was used instead of 'person', because the figure only loosely fit the definition of humanoid. It looked more like a modern depiction of a demon. It wore black armor, but didn't really fit into it as out of every gap of the armor came either flesh, bone, chitin, or smoke. It was as if the creature was some shapeshifting chimera and was given a suit of armor, but not told how to put it on, so it made do.

The creature raised its sword, a simple black piece of steel with an unadorned crossguard, and charged at him. It didn't get more than two steps before Midnight pounced, pinning it to the ground, gripping it in her mouth. With a single jerk of her head, the figure was split in half, armor and all. The creature simply dissipated into smoke and the armor collapsed in on itself

With a growl, Midnight stalked in front of Harry, ensuring that nothing else was about to pop out of the brush, before lowering herself down as an indication to get on. He climbed aboard the wolf, before spurring her towards the center of the forest, having a hunch as to the source of the intrusion into the forest.

-Break-

Sakura wasn't sure what happened to Harry, but it wasn't good. She had been so relieved when he stopped screaming and the circle shut down that she had rushed towards him as fast as she could, or at least had tried to. She was halted by Saber oddly enough, who grabbed her shoulders, looking past her and towards Harry with a grim look on her face. It was from this distance that she saw that Harry had changed a bit. The purple patch of hair he had gained from Zouken's 'training' was now blood red. His alchemical tattoos were now glowing and pulsing, eerily reminiscent of Kiritusgu's own veins whenever the curse began acting up.

Harry stirred, standing up and looking at her with a large smile, one that sent shivers down her spine by how different it was from those he usually showed her, a smile that could only be described as 'manic'. Standing up, he carelessly stepped on his glasses, which had fallen on the ground earlier, his now uncovered eyes staring at her a deep and hungry crimson instead of a comforting green.

Sakura opened her mouth to call out to him, but was interrupted when Saber suddenly tackled her to the ground. She was about to ask what the blonde was doing when she realized that where she had been a moment ago, there was now a fist, Harry's fist to be exact, which would have probably skewered her had Saber not tackled her. Crimson, wavy lines were now covering his arms, and she could tell that he had reinforced himself to the point of straining his body, something he had never, and _would have_ never done in normal circumstances.

Instead of attacking again as Saber carried her to safety, next to the other Servants, Harry simply fixed the pair, and started to laugh, sending shivers down the spines of all those present. It was not the laugh of a child, not the laugh of a sardonic adult, no, this was the mad cackles of a madman, of a beast so far gone it had to be put down lest it destroy everything in its' path.

Saber looked truly distressed, despite her battle persona, her hold on Excalibur tightening to the point that the handle seemed to creak under the pressure.

"My friends, I'm afraid Harry is gone," she pronounced darkly.

-Break-

Inside the forest, another war was being waged. Harry had ridden Midnight to the center, where he suspected the intrusions were originating from, although the wolf was slowed somewhat by encounters with more of the monstrous knights. They weren't much of a problem individually, but in large numbers they posed a threat to the black direwolf, so he had projected a magical lance from the Gate of Babylon, which was designed for mounted use. It was unnamed, but when used while riding an animal, it always struck its target with the force of the animal moving at full gallop, regardless of the speed the actual animal was moving at. It was enough to make short work of the monstrous knights, fortunately.

When not impeded, Midnight made a rapid course for the clearing. He had to keep a tight grip on her fur to avoid falling off as she made a straight path through the forest towards his destination. As they barreled inside the clearing, a single glance was enough for Harry to know his suspicions were justified.

The door in the archway was completely open. From it poured hundreds of the armored monsters, slowly meandering into loose formations. Everything they touched slowly rotted and decayed, slowly turning the paradisiac garden in a twisted wasteland filled with nothing but thorny vines leaking black ichor, fizzling each time a drop fell to the ground.

Looking towards the door and saw writhing, pulsing tentacles emerging from it, randomly flailing like a snake in search of prey. He grimaced as he saw one unfortunate bird fly just a little too close and get snatched up and dragged in by the appendages, the indignant and scared squawks abruptly ending in a startled squeak as it was swallowed by the blackness.

As he and Midnight emerged from the woods and into the clearing, the monsters in the field saw them, and they immediately took a loose formation, stomping towards the pair with their weapons poised to strike.

Despite the numerous weapons pointed their way, Midnight simply lowered her head and charged the line, sending armored knights flying as a wolf the size of a rhino bowled them over, shattering their group. He hopped off his mount and she instantly stopped before taking up a position to guard him. With a horde of enemies barring the way, and countless more emerging from the archway every moment, he figured that the moment had come to see if his attempts to recreate the Gate of Babylon had borne some fruit.

He attempted to materialize as many weapons as he could muster in the air behind him. Oddly enough though, instead of simply forming there, they flew from the mouth of the forge off in the center of the clearing and into the positions he wanted them. Regardless, he directed his projections with his mind and shot them forward as fast as they could. Unlike Gilgamesh, he utilized all of them to their maximum potential. He still wasn't exactly sure what this garden was, but he had grown rather fond of it.

Fire, ice, lightning, blinding flashes of light, and countless other effects lit up the battlefield before him as hundreds of Noble Phantasms detonated on the opposing army. Needless to say, in but a few moments, there was no opposition left. The problem came from the fact that the archway simply paused for a moment, before disgorging hundreds upon hundreds of additional soldiers. Realizing that the archway was the true problem, he reformed additional swords which flowed from the forge just as fast as the soldiers flowed from the archway.

While he concentrated on this, Midnight ensured that none of the monsters got too close to him, not without her viciously tearing into them first at least. Once he had an adequate amount of weapons floating behind him, awaiting his command, he directed half the group towards the reforming army and half towards the archway, intent on collapsing it.

The first part worked just fine, destroying the knights just as easily as they had done before, but the second half of his projectiles encountered a problem. Apparently, despite the archway being very old, and already half-destroyed, even a rain of powerful Noble Phantasms was not enough to even put a scratch on it, despite his earlier assumptions that it would be more than enough to collapse it.

He growled in frustration at his lack of progress, as apparently did the being in the doorway, which he suspected was some form of Angra Mainyu. It was obvious that the God of Evil was not pleased with his interference, as instead of armored knights, this time a giant blob of pure darkness was spat out of the portal, quickly morphing into a giant, black dragon whose following roar nearly destroyed Harry's reinforced eardrums while it glared at him hatefully.

To counter this threat, Harry figured that a working strategy shouldn't be changed and summoned every possible anti-dragon weapon he had stored. More than a few were famous for slaying dragons of renown before, and with a rain of them he figured that the beast would be quickly skewered. However, as the rain of lethal weapons started, he was surprised to see that the dragon didn't seem afraid, and although he would have liked to assume it was due to the corruptive influence of Angra Mainyu stripping it from any sort of preservation instinct, the twisted smile of the manifestation made him quite sure that he was missing something.

He was confused and slightly wary of a dragon having that sort of look on that face. Cautiously, he launched one of the swords at it. The second it touched the monster's glistening scales, they seemed to briefly turn fluid, absorbing the nameless sword. A second later, the dragon opened its mouth and the same sword shot out at him at twice the speed he'd shot it at, which barely left him the time to create a pseudo-barrier using the other swords, deflecting the weapon.

Trusting in the shield, he summoned Rho Aias and launched all of the swords at the dragon, hoping that there was a limit to its' ability to absorb his weapons, despite his instincts telling him he was wrong. Suffice to say, it did not. The volley hit the dragon and was instantly sucked into it. With his reinforced vision, he recognized that some of the few wooden weapons were not absorbed, but also lacked the ability to penetrate the monster's scales. Then, with a belch, his swords were shot back at him. He lifted his shield and weathered the storm, unable to dismiss the weapons once they were shot back at them.

"Alright, so it can absorb and shoot my sword back at me," he thought, "but it didn't absorb the wood. It only eats metals perhaps? No, it ate the swords made from stone."

Then it struck him.

It couldn't absorb organic matter.

He just needed to find a powerful weapon made from purely organic means and attack the dragon with it.

As he thought that, he idly watched Midnight ripped one of the armored figures to shreds as it neared. She would probably be able to fight the dragon, being entirely organic and definitely deadly, but she was too small. She was the size of a rhino, but the dragon was the size of a mansion. As soon as he thought that, a word suddenly came unbidden into his head. It was strange, as he had never heard the word before, but he somehow knew that it would help. Hesitantly, he raised his hand towards Midnight and uttered the word.

" _Engorgio."_

The second the word left his lips, a light shot towards the black wolf. Upon contact, she seemed to grow, and grow, and grow. By the time the spell was finished, she was the size of a jumbo jet. She seemed momentarily thrown off balance by the change, but quickly adjusted. She then seemed to realize that she was the same size as the dragon that had been causing her Master so much trouble. She let out a growl that shook the very earth with its intensity.

"Midnight," Harry ordered.

"Sic him."

-Break-

Saber was having problems. In her mind, she knew that her Master was gone, taken over by the Grail and turned into a twisted marionette to kill her. In her heart, all she could see was the man she deeply respected, admired even, and the man who made her feel like a swooning maiden instead of King deadened to human feelings. She still had trouble grasping the concept, having spent her entire life as a man, but she knew that were she to ever experience love, it would be what she felt for her Master, Harry. She had little confidence in herself as a woman, but she did know that much.

Which made it all the harder for her to kill him, or even attempt to do so.

Currently, she was occupied joining Rider in keeping him distracted as Caster desperately searched for some way to undo this. Unfortunately, Saber had enough experience dealing with beings beyond humanity to know that nothing short of killing the host would remove the being inside, that or a miracle. She knew this, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Hence, keeping him distracted with Rider. Assassin could have been helping, but the first thing Not-Harry had done upon standing was order his Servants to kill everyone else. Fortunately, it seemed that he was somehow locked out of his command seals and True Magic, so he was unable to compel them into obedience, meaning that perhaps Harry was still inside there somewhere, fighting.

Assassin knew logically that it was unlikely, but she needed hope. The idea of disobeying her god was anathema to her, but she also knew that the being before her wasn't her true god, but a mockery wearing his appearance, spitting on everything her god stood for. The result had been Assassin going into a sort of catatonic state, like an android given contradictory orders, unable to do anything but endlessly process the order while trying to find a way to make sense of them.

Unfortunately, even without even without his True Magic, Harry was a formidable opponent, especially when nobody there wanted to hurt him. Even Berserker was careful not to hurt him during their brief engagement. It seemed Illya's love for her Big Brother had _really_ rubbed off on the giant. Without any way to stop their Master short of killing him, the Servants had settled for keeping him distracted and not harming anyone. Hopefully, it would delay the confrontation long enough for their Master to fight off the being controlling his body.

That is, if he was still alive in there.

-Break-

At Harry's orders, Midnight launched herself at the black dragon, attempting to clamp her teeth around its neck. The dragon reared back, taking a swipe with its talons, narrowly missing the snapping snout of the wolf. Missing her intended target, Midnight ended up body-tackling the lizard, bringing them both to the ground. From there it devolved into a mess of strikes, clawing, biting, and tail-whips.

While this battle of Titans went on, Harry was left without his former animal bodyguard. He was left in further trouble by the fact that the next wave of armored monsters seemed to have picked up on the dragon's trick and started absorbing any inorganic weapon that struck them. The wooden ones he possessed could bludgeon them, but it was far too slow. At this rate, he would be overwhelmed. What he needed was some backup.

As if answering his call, at that moment, howling came from the forest. He looked to his right towards the tree line but couldn't make anything out. Then, the darkness at the edge of the forest seemed to _move_. The shadows advanced, stretching out from the perimeter like a rolling tide of darkness. It wasn't until he reinforced his vision that he became aware that it wasn't shadow.

It was a pack.

Of midnight black direwolves, answering the call of their Master. Apparently Midnight wasn't as alone as he had previously thought.

The lead wolf let out a long howl like a war cry, the rest following suit in a deafening cacophony of sound, before the mass charge hit the armored knights like a cavalry charge of old. It was like when Midnight had hit the small number and sent them flying earlier, but multiplied by a hundred. The wolves tore into the flanks, leaving no survivors in their desire to kill them, ripping the knights to shreds with incredibly ferocity.

While this went on, Midnight continued her struggle with the dragon, a struggle she seemed to be winning. Eventually, it seemed that the dragon had suffered enough, because it slipped out of the wolf's hold on it and started buffeting its wings in preparation for flight. It didn't make it much more than a few dozen yards off the ground before in a mighty leap, Midnight clamped her massive teeth around the monster's neck and bit down with all her might. With her grip and weight, the dragon was unceremoniously pulled back to earth. The engorged direwolf gave her head a quick jerk, snapping the lizard's neck, finally killing it.

This led to a brief reprieve, giving Harry time to regain his bearings. The wolf pack had effectively pushed the monster army back into the doorway, killing them faster than they came out. Midnight was sitting behind him, still towering over him and waiting for something to kill. When he saw the progress the pack had made towards the archway, he knew what he had to do.

He ran as fast as he could towards the door. The wolves moved alongside him, acting as an armed escort of sorts as they killed anything that got too close. When he neared the door, one of the tentacles protruding from it snapped at him like a whip, trying to grab him and drag him into the blackness. He swiftly projected his diamond blade and severed it, the severed appendage dissolving in a black miasma with a wet 'splurt'. Not breaking stride, he neared the doors themselves. Making contact, he grabbed them and with all of his might, pushed them shut. The being within fought against him with all its might, and even reinforced to his limits, he was barely inching the door shut. He was so focused that he was caught off guard when one of the tentacles, instead of fighting to keep the door open, spun and smacked him in the chest with the force of a freight train. The blow nearly sent him flying, but he was caught when he landed against Midnight's still enlarged form. She picked him back up, and together they used their weight to keep the doors shut. He then summoned what he hoped would solve the problem, one of the weapons Gilgamesh had oddly enough summoned but not used.

"Enkidu! Binding Chain of the Heavens!"

As he spoke, a golden chain formed in his hands. It seemed to glow with a radiance matched only by Excalibur. With Midnight holding it shut, he wrapped the chain around the doors, and fastened the daggers on the ends into the ground like bolts. He hoped that it would hold, at least long enough to find a permanent solution.

He felt a strange tugging in his mind, before he suddenly found himself facing a distressed Saber and Rider.

-Break-

Rider dodged another blow from her Master, the punch intended for her creating a deep crater instead of sending her flying. It broke her heart to see this happen to him, to see the kind child, too mature for his age, act like a deranged berserker, cackling madly, crimson eyes promising nothing but pain and suffering glaring at her instead of the calm warmth found in his usual green orbs. Deep down inside her, she felt the crushing weight of failure. She had promised herself when she had been summoned that she would protect her Master with every fiber of her being. It was what 'Medusa' meant after all, 'Protector'. She hadn't wanted to see him turned into a monster by the evils of the world, but she had failed. Her beloved Master, the man she had fallen for, the first time she had felt love for anything since she had devoured her sisters, and he was now an evil monster, harming the ones he loved because she hadn't protected him. Because she failed. It caused her more despair than she could bear.

She ducked as her Master swung his projected morningstar at her, nearly hitting her in her distraction. Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke inside him and his old self flickered back into life. The red streak of hair flickered back into purple, his blood red eyes were now their usual green, and he was no longer smiling like a madman. He paused, confused, before looking down at the mace in his hands how a normal person would look at a desk lamp they found themselves holding after sleepwalking. The, he looked around at the concerned and fearful looks being shot at him before connecting the dots. The mace dropped to the ground, popping out of existence as he dispelled it. His whole body was trembling, and it looked as if he was ready to go into shock, not very surprising if it was really Harry, as he would rather die before harming those he loved. To wake up when he was about to try to kill one of his Servants must have really distressed him.

He looked up at her, tears in his eyes, taking a tentative step forwards, his arms opening to hug her in apology. She let him, but remained tense in case this was an elaborate trick. After several seconds of sobbing, she gambled that it wasn't and returned the hug, tears welling up in her own eyes at the return of her Master. The two sat embracing for a moment before Sakura joined in, followed by Saber, then followed by everyone else. It was a very emotional moment, everyone crying and apologizing over various things. Harry finally broke the massive hug, and just smiled at everyone in attendance.

"The war is over everyone, I bound Angra Mainyu with the chain of Enkidu."

"Let's go home."

-Break-

The group all got together and started towards the stairs of the now battle-scarred temple, the tension from earlier replaced with a far more relaxed air, although his Servants seemed to be deep in thought.

About fifteen feet from the circle, he paused, clutching his head, as he was nearly overwhelmed by bloodlust, his vision filled with a red haze as he stared at his Servants' back. The feeling disappeared almost immediately, though, and he attributed it to the last remnants of his fight with Angra Mainyu. Making plans to deal with it as soon as possible, he took five more steps, before the feeling came back, even stronger. Pausing, he was suddenly assaulted by the sight of the garden and the archway, archway whose doors were buckling under the assault of the God of Evil, Enkidu straining to keep them closed.

The garden was somehow inside his head.

And the door wouldn't hold.

Which meant Angra Mainyu would get back into his head.

And he wouldn't have a way to contain him anymore.

And then his loved ones would be hurt.

As he thought this, he saw a minor crack develop in the door as a massive force on the other side pounded on it. He knew that he needed to take action, but didn't know what to do. The only way to truly kill a god like that was to kill its mortal shell. The mortal shell, which in this case, happened to be him, now that the Grail was destroyed.

He looked around at his family, his Servants, his loves. He knew that there was no other way out of this. If Mainyu fully took control of him, it would be able to fully manifest, not to mention have a True Magician as a meat suit. If that happened, everyone he loved would be endangered. He couldn't let that happen. He stopped in his tracks. Everyone else took a couple more steps before realizing that he had stopped. Sakura turned to give him a curious look.

"What's wrong Harry? You don't want to be late to dinner now do you?" she joked, with that beautiful smile of hers.

Oh how he would miss that smile.

"Everyone, I'd like to say something. Angra Mainyu is still inside my head. Even now, he's about to break free again. I can't let that happen. I want all of you to know, that I love you, with every fiber of my being. I do this for you, so that you are not endangered by me."

Everyone looked at him, confused and slightly concerned. Nobody noticed the glowing of the command seals until it was too late. He ran back into the center of the temple to clear the blast radius.

"Archer," he spoke, tears in his eyes, "by the power of my command seals, I order you. Strike me with Excalibur at full power."

Flooding the command seal with prana, he knew it would be enough to force the cynical Servant to obey, and despite the visible struggle from the white-haired Heroic Spirit, he lifted the Sword of Promised Victory above his head, the holy blade shining with a near blinding light. While Archer was lifting his arm, he also created a quick barrier to prevent his Servants from interfering, Saber the first to react as she screamed something at him, hitting it with her sword, followed closely by his other Servants, and his Homunculi.

As the golden blade of Excalibur was swung, he smiled one last time at his loved ones, committing their faces to memory. Saber was pounding on the barrier with her sword, screaming at him, pleading that he didn't sacrifice himself, with Rider doing the same at her side, her expression one of utter panic and denial. Caster was firing bolts of magic, but the barrier was still holding, and he knew that she, more so than the others, knew how he felt at that moment, the Witch of Betrayal taking off her hood, showing her beautiful face marred with tears as she desperately fought to break the barrier. Assassin, for her part, had frozen, looking unable to believe what was happening, and for the first time, unsure of what to do as she held a distraught Sakura by the shoulders, the younger girl protesting, screaming and begging at the Servant to let her go.

Next to the Servants, the three Homunculi were also trying to break the barrier, but to no avail, with the hulking form of Berserker flinging blows that would have leveled _buildings_ to little effect, Illya screaming to him as well, her red eyes staring at him in a mix of horror and utter despair.

"EX-"

At that moment, the barrier suddenly broke, Servants and Homunculi inadvertently striking it at the same time, shattering it like glass.

"HARRY!"

"BIG BROTHER!"

"MASTER!"

"-CALIBUR!"

He was engulfed in golden light, and there he died, a smile on his face, knowing that he had protected his family.


	10. Chapter 10: Recovery

**What's up everyone? Neolyph here again to bring you the tenth chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. Got a great response last chapter, so thanks for that. I'm kinda sad though. Nobody picked up on the reference last chapter. I'll give a shout-out to anyone who goes back and finds it. Here's a hint: it's from a Terry Pratchett novel. This chapter is coming a bit late, primarily because I got a bit of writer's block when writing it. Its really long though. Also, next chapter starts Potterverse, so hurry up. Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, and follows.**

 **Once again, check my profile for a poll on whether this should become a WBWL story. Only 1 chapter before we get there, so hurry up and vote.**

 **Since nobody picked up on the reference last chapter, I've decided that I'm going to start dropping references to the book in every chapter until someone picks up on it. If you do, drop a review or PM me.**

 **Now, for reviews**

 **madcow360: That scene was more to demonstrate Angra Mainyu gaining a foothold inside Harry than bashing Rin. Harry completely overreacted, but that wasn't really** _ **him**_ **. Not to mention, think of the situation Rin is in. She is a ten year old entitled magus whose only authority figure in life is Kirei Kotomine, who has not had a friendship with either Shirou or Sakura to mellow her out, has jumped into a Grail war without preparation, was then intimidated into signing a geass scroll by a classmate she trusted, and then said classmate forced her to shelter him, her sister (who hates her), another enemy master, the man who killed her father, and enough Servants to level the city inside her home, only feet above her workshop. Is it really a surprise that she snapped a bit and said something really callous?**

 **Thundramon: Thanks for the compliments on the various parts. 1. The agonizing comes this chapter. 2. The battle scenes were more about the emotions than the fighting, plus, I'm just not very good at writing fights. 3. See reply to madcow360**

 **Dark flame god: Yes and no. Mainyu essentially lobotomized it, leaving the memories and experience behind, but the personality is basically dead.**

 **Delta8: Valid complaints. In order: 1. Enkidu can't bind a god leeching off a True Magician. 2. Gaia knew that Harry could sort things out, and would have intervened had he been unable. This was sort of a test for her. 3. Lily's blood protection protects him from** _ **Voldemort,**_ **not evil. 4. If Avalon could purge Mainyu from a host, they would have used it on Sakura in canon.**

 **Joe Lawyer: Exactly, Harry's gonna be able to take off his glasses and turn into magical crossbreed of Frank Underwood and Lelouch vi Brittania.**

 **Bonestar: Nope. Mainyu is 100% dead. Took a fully powered Excalibur to the face.**

 **Roxas902: Glad to know you enjoyed it. Gave a hint as to the reference this chapter.**

 **Heika2: Harry is theoretically capable of creating Ea, but Gaia would get pretty pissed.**

 **PhaseHand: Here you go. I humbly beg your forgiveness.**

Chapter 10: Recovery

Silence loomed over the courtyard of the Ryuudo Temple. It wasn't the comforting sort of silence brought about by nobody having nor needing anything to say. It wasn't the awkward silence of somebody making an ill-timed joke. It was the still, oppressive silence of absolute shock. Of everyone being stuck in such a sense of disbelief that they simultaneously agreed that maybe if they just stayed very still and quiet, time would rewind itself, and everything that didn't make sense would go away, allowing the world to make sense again. They would close their eyes, and when they opened them again, Harry would be back.

Unfortunately, it wasn't so. No matter what they did, no matter how much they tried to deny it, Harry was still gone, his body vaporized by the use at point-blank range of an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm on his defenseless self. No matter how much they wished to refuse it, they knew that nothing could survive such an attack unscathed, much less a boy not even in his teens yet, and who had likely purposely lowered his defenses to allow the blast to hit him full force.

Ironically, Assassin seemed to be handling what had just happened the best.

After the smoke had cleared, the frantic searching for Harry (or what was left of his body) had begun, and when Archer declared the now smoldering dust that had once been Harry dead, Assassin had only been shocked for a few moments, before declaring her faith in her god and his glorious return. As she kept going on about how her God would gloriously come back, his "great sacrifice" obviously an act to draw the battle against their enemy, the God of Evil, on a plane where they wouldn't be harmed, she was interrupted when Rider turned to look at Archer.

Rider was usually a very calm, rational individual, despite her love of teasing. However, no matter how rational one could be, everyone had something that made their rationale and composure fly out of the window. In Rider's case, one of the extremely few things that could make her thoughts bypass the logical filters she usually applied to them, was harming her loved ones. No matter what, it was a sure way to make her upset, and in this peculiar case, she was more than upset, she was entering an all-consuming, Berserker-like rage. She simply looked at the blackened outline that had once been her beloved Master, then looked at the white haired Servant that had reduced him to such, who, despite the situation, seemed almost unaffected, almost as if, despite the fact he had just been forced to kill an innocent boy, he simply didn't _care_. After that, her body just sort of moved by itself. She wasn't really aware of anything again until Assassin and Saber were dragging her off Archer as she viciously clawed his face, her two daggers impaling his shoulders to the ground, while she snarled at him, trying to rip his throat out using nothing but her teeth and nails.

After a few minutes to let the red haze fade away, Rider finally calmed down enough to stop actively attempting to kill Archer, simply slumping on the ground, staring vacantly at the spot where she had last seen her Master whole, smiling despite the fact he knew he was about to with the anger gone, then came the depression. She hadn't protected him. She had _known_ that Angra Mainyu would stop at _nothing_ to keep existing, she had been aware that it had been almost too easy to subdue it, and yet she had failed to be vigilant, to keep an eye on her Master for signs that he was not being subtly manipulated, or corrupted. Perhaps if she had asked Caster to check on him, then perhaps her Master wouldn't have sacrificed himself.

Maybe her Master would still be alive.

She slumped down against the wall of the temple, feeling utterly defeated. Beneath her Breaker Gorgon, tears welled. It was funny. She hadn't cried ever. Not when that bitch Athena had turned her sisters' and hers' followers against them, not when she had become a monster to protect said siblings, not even when she had eaten her sisters, whom she had loved more than anything on Earth. Even as little more than a Berserk animal with little intelligence, she had known what she had done at the time, and yet she had not cried. She simply didn't know what to do now. She had been prepared to dedicate herself to Harry, but he was dead now. That word, dead. It just seemed to repeat itself in her head over and over again, drowning her in a cold fury, mostly at herself. She had failed in everything she stood for, first her beloved siblings, then her beloved Master. What was she going to do?

Caster slid down next to her. The blue haired Servant couldn't help but wonder if the gods were still playing their sick games with her. After the ordeal with Jason, she had thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to live happily. So she had come to this world and dedicated herself to the young boy she had found, hoping that even if she was a Servant she would be able to experience a glimpse of what a happy life was like, a life without emotions forced on her by arrogant Gods, a life where those she cared for where those she _chose_ to care for, not people pushed on her by some higher force. She could sympathize with his past, with the suffering he had had to go through, and to see what he had become despite that past had been more than enough for her to begin to develop an infatuation with the young boy. She had seen enough people, and knew how to read a person enough to glimpse at what he could have become, and it had been enough for her to consider trying a romantic relationship with him later in his life. She had even begun practicing the skills of a good housewife in her spare time, as she felt she would be happier as a housewife than as a working woman.

Yet it seemed that her past was enough for the higher powers to deem her unworthy of another chance, for despite her glimpse at the life she could have had, it had been taken away from her, wrenched from her grasp before she could truly experience it. Perhaps she had been right to believe that she didn't deserve Harry, that she didn't deserve to be happy.

Across the courtyard Saber knelt, unable to identify the painful feeling flooding through her heart. Had she been someone more in touch with her emotions, she would be able to classify it as "heartbreak". For the first time in her life, she had truly opened her heart to another, and fate had cruelly snatched him away from her. She was aware that he had made an incredibly noble decision, but that didn't stop her from hating him for doing it. Her subconscious mentally weighed her heart and her ideals and she was shocked to realize that her heart was winning. That had never happened to her before. She had always, _always_ placed her ideals before her heart, as evidenced when she had been forced to sentence Lancelot and Guinevere for execution, despite her heart knowing that they had done nothing wrong, despite wanting to save her two friends.

She could only resent her Master for making the most noble decision imaginable, the sacrifice of oneself for others. Didn't he know how much he had hurt them with his foolish sacrifice? Part of her brain was appalled at the thought of calling one's sacrifice "foolish", but the emotional side of her brain rose up and squashed that part with the force of a raging tide. Was this what others had felt? Was this why many during her reign had scorned her sense of duty and nobility? She realized why Harry had forced Archer to swing the sword rather than herself. She wasn't entirely sure if she could have, even with the use of a Command Seal. Perhaps she understood now. In a contest between her Master and her honor, she now knew which would win. It was a shame the knowledge had come too late.

"That didn't _really_ just happen, did it?" Leanna kept repeating in her mind.

Things like that only happened in stories, right? The big hero sacrificed himself for his friends and loved ones, and when the smoke cleared he was still standing there, smirking. Because of that, when the light had flashed and the shield had fallen, she hadn't been worried. She just knew that the wind would blow, revealing her Master. Then he would run up and hug them and kiss them and then they would all go home and he would cook them delicious dinner and then everything would be alright and happy again. It sounded childish, but she just knew that it would happen. Then the wind had risen up and shown nothing but a blackened scorch mark and her heart had sunk like a rock. Even now, as she sat weeping with her sisters she was half-expecting him to suddenly pop out from behind a corner and yell "Gotcha!". In the deepest part of her brain, though, she knew that he wouldn't.

Joy sat leaning into her sisters, taking comfort in their warmth. Harry had been her light. She suffered from a nearly crippling social anxiety. Outside of him, Sakura, her sisters, and her fellow Servants, there were few people she could talk to. Once, she had attempted to go grocery shopping at a nearby market and had nearly had panic attack at the sheer number of people surrounding her. Fortunately, Harry had sensed her distress and come to get her before she had lost it and attacked an innocent bystander.

Early on in her life, she wasn't even that comfortable around Sakura, so she really only had Harry and her sisters to talk to. Her sisters hadn't made very good conversationalists as they didn't know very much about the world either, which led her to talk almost solely with Harry. He had slowly eased her out of her shell, introducing her to the wide world of agriculture, taking her to nearby farms so that she could study them, getting her to befriend Sakura, and even defying Zouken by building a small garden for her in the very limited space of his workshop. Without him, she just didn't know what she would do.

As the oldest sibling and the role model, Monica knew that it was her duty to be strong for her sisters, but by the Root was it hard. Every fiber of her being wanted to cry, scream, throw something, or collapse on the floor sobbing, but she knew that she couldn't. Harry had trusted her to assist him and manage her sisters. She couldn't let him down, even in death. Failure to carry out her duty would be a betrayal of everything that he stood for. She couldn't let that happen. If she let herself break now, she didn't even know what her sisters would do. Her study of magecraft had led her to become a hyper-rational being, and yet even she was crushed by this loss. Her siblings would be much worse, since they had nowhere near as much control on their emotions. She steeled herself and hugged her two siblings close to her, providing them comfort, while also taking some for herself.

Unlike Monica, Illya was much more vocal in her displeasure. She cried, screamed, and just generally threw a tantrum at the loss of her Big Brother, one of the only people in her life to ever truly care about her. It just wasn't fair! Berserker seemed to agree with her, as he was rapidly looking around the clearing, as if searching for something to kill in response to the death of the tiny boy both he and his Mistress had grown rather fond of. Not many things imprinted on his insane mind, but he possessed an overwhelming need to protect very small children in bad situations. It was why he had grown so protective of his Mistress. Now the other boy he had sought to protect was gone. Someone was to blame, and he would find them and smash them! Illya's two maids looked sullen at the young child that had drawn their charge out of her shell, not to mention treated homunculi like themselves as people instead of tools, and wept silent tears at the tragedy of it all.

Sakura knelt in the center of the courtyard, staring at the black outline of Harry. As she stared at that dark smear, something inside of her _broke._ She had never been very emotionally stable, not since her adoption by the Matou family anyway. The only thing that really kept her together was Harry. He was the light of her life, her reason for getting up in the morning, her reason for living on.

And he was gone.

"No he isn't!" her heart cried at her. She couldn't accept it. He wasn't dead.

He _wasn't._ And she would wait for him to return. Then they would be together again and everything would be alright. She just had to wait for him to come back.

Even if she had to wait the rest of her life.

-Break-

Traditionally, upon waking from blissfully uneventful insensibility, one would ask: "Where am I?" Well that, or "uuuhhh…", since those two were probably the most common things the brain could come up with while trying to process new information.

Harry said it.

Tradition allowed a choice of second lines. A key point in the selection process was an audit to see that the body still had all the parts the brain remembered having the day before.

Harry checked. Then he realized that he didn't seem to possess hands, or a body. Neither of these really bothered him, despite how utterly strange the feeling was.

Then came the tantalizing bit. Now that the snowball of consciousness was starting to roll, was it going to find that it was waking up inside a body lying in a gutter with something multiple, the noun didn't matter after an adjective like "multiple", nothing good ever followed "multiple", or wasit going to be a case of crisp sheets, a soothing hand, and a businesslike figure in white pulling open the curtains on a bright new day? Was it all over, with nothing worse to look forward to now than weak tea, nourishing gruel, short, strengthening walks in the garden and possibly a brief platonic love affair with a ministering angel, or was this all just a moment's blackout and some looming bastard was now about to get down to real business with the thick end of a pickaxe handle?

At this point some outside stimulus would be helpful. "It's going to be all right" was favorite, whereas "Did anyone get his number?" was definitely a bad sign; either, however, was better than "You two hold his hands behind his back".

The complete silence unfortunately didn't give him any helpful indications.

Normally at this milestone in the restoration of consciousness the pain would hit him like a freight locomotive. Oddly enough, no pain came at all, but then again, neither did _any_ physical sensation.

Finally, Harry gained enough semblance of self-control to open his eyes. That is, he would have opened his eyes had he possessed eyelids, or eyes. Instead, it seemed that vision and color simply popped into existence, blinding him with its radiance.

"Arrgh," he managed to moan, through a nonexistent mouth, with nonexistent vocal cords. Were he not incredibly confused, the magus side of him would be demanding that he find out how that was possible. As it was, he had more important matters to figure out.

Like how the Root he was still alive.

Last he remembered he was staring down Archer as a command seal forced the Servant to kill him. He remembered channeling all of the prana he could muster into his Servants, so that even after his death they would never have to worry about taking on a new Master to support themselves. Then the shield had fallen, allowing the sound it had been blocking through.

 _"Harry!"_

 _"Big Brother!"_

 _"Master!"_

Each of the shouts drove the nail deeper into his heart. This time he did feel pain. Deep, burning pain raced through his heart as each desperate, panicked scream echoed in his mind, nearly driving him mad with guilt. Out of everything, it had not been the knowledge that he was going to die that had been the hardest on him, as his life had left him with enough experience to know that Death would likely not be too bad. No, what had made the decision the hardest was the knowledge that he was going to deeply hurt those he cared for.

He had hurt them, and he knew it. What he did though, he also knew was necessary.

But why did it have to be so Root-be-damned _hard_?

Despite his eyes being open, all he could see were the shocked and horrified faces of his loved ones as they gazed upon him for the last time. He could still see Sakura's tears glistening on her face as she screamed and screamed for him to live, even as the sword descended on him.

In an attempt to remove that image, he looked around at his surroundings. He saw that he was in Ryuudo Temple, at around sunset. He looked down at his body to discover why he couldn't feel it.

It wasn't there.

It took a couple seconds to mentally process this, before panic struck him. He saw a blackened, oddly human shaped smear of soot on the ground, and he realized that it was him, his body. The question then came as to exactly how he still existed. Was this the afterlife? Just floating about without a body, unable to interact with anything? No, if it was, things like Heroic Spirits and the Akashic record of humanity wouldn't exist. It didn't make any sense why this would happen to him after death. Unless he wasn't really dead that was, or if Angra Mainyu was torturing him now that they had both, by all rights, ceased to exist in a way that would allow them to interact with the physical world.

Then, information shot through his brain like a switch being flipped. He saw Zouken implanting remnants of the Angra Mainyu-tainted Grail into his body, making him an evil version of the Lesser Grail. He wasn't exactly sure how, but he _knew_ that they were responsible for his current state of living consciousness even without a body. He still wasn't sure exactly how that worked, the only magic he was familiar with that could cause someone to continue consciously living without a body was...

 _Heavens Feel_

And suddenly everything made sense. His knowledge of the First True Magic must have somehow powered or charged the Grail pieces implanted in him, causing him to master some form of the Third True Magic. From what he knew of it, the Third Magic, the Heavens Feel, was the closest thing that existed in magic to true immortality. It turned the user to simply a soul residing inside a body, rather than the two being co-dependent. Upon the destruction of the body, the user simply became a disembodied consciousness. The only way to completely neutralize such a being would be to drain it of all magical energy, rendering it unable to sustain itself. As a counter, the Third Magic turned the soul into a perpetual motion machine of sorts, making it capable of producing prana, rendering it impossible for the user to be drained.

He nearly wept at the knowledge that he would be able to return to his loved ones. All he had to do was generate enough Od inside him to fully craft a body. Between his knowledge of Alchemy, Biology, and the First True Magic, he figured that it wouldn't be that hard. The only problem with that was that he was slightly wary of how preforming magic without a body would effect it. It would probably take a couple of hours for him to ensure no problems arose during the formation. It then occurred to him.

"Where is everyone?"

They had probably gone back to the Tohsaka estate. He would go down there himself as he mentally created the blueprints for his body. He needed to make sure that everyone was still alright. It wouldn't be pleasant, having to watch them mourn him after his sacrifice, but he needed to be sure.

First though, he needed to figure out how to move.

It was rather strange, not possessing a body. He had heard of amputees who experienced phantom limbs, feeling the limb that had been removed despite it not actually being there. This was a similar sensation, but consisting of his entire mass. Even stranger, the imaginary limbs actually responded to his attempts at moving them, and propelled him along the ground. It took him a couple of tries, as the sheer unfamiliarity of the experience resulted in him simply falling on his face. Of course this didn't hurt, nor did he even feel the sensation of touching the ground, but he could still push himself off of it and keep moving.

On the way back to the Tohsaka estate, he wondered if he would be able to move things or touch people in his spiritual form. He tried it on a pedestrian walking outside the temple, but she didn't react when he barreled into her as fast as he could move. Instead he simply bounced off of her and fell on his back.

He arrived at the conclusion that he was essentially a Servant in astralized form. As spiritual being themselves, he wondered if his Servants would be able to detect him. His scientific mind concluded in the negative since his astralized body had been in the same spot his physical one had died, indicating that it had been there since he was destroyed. If his Servants could see him, they would have done something, or waited around for him to wake up.

Root, something told him that this whole "immortality" thing would be useful when his Servants and Sakura got their hands on him after his little stunt.

-Break-

Kiritsugu sat at the dining table of the Tohsaka manor, holding his head in his hands as he silently wept for the boy who had gone through so much. He had completely failed as an adult. Here he was, a grown man, who had sat and watched an eleven years old boy walk off to his death. He should have been there, should have done _something_. So what if he was almost half-dead? The impossible had never stopped him before, and it shouldn't have stopped him now! He should have asked one of the Homonculi to drag him there, or at least somewhere where he would have been able to intervene had the need occurred!

What was even worse was that he had been in a very good mood prior to the announcement from the others. He could tell the second that the Grail had been destroyed, as the curses that had slowly been killing him disappeared, dying along with their creator. He had wept in relief at the success of the mission, and now he wept in grief at the cost. He didn't want to live if it came at the cost of an innocent's life, he had had more than enough time, had done enough to be at peace with the idea of dying! Especially not since the one who had allowed him to reconcile with the daughter he had thought he would never see again had given his life for it!

Perhaps if he had gone with them, he could have thought up some solution. Maybe he could have transferred the evil god to himself and taken the blow instead. Anything would have been better than what happened.

He didn't know how to make it up to young Harry. The only thing he could think of would be to take Sakura under his wing and raise her along Illya. Now that he wasn't slowly dying, he was so relieved that he would be able to see his daughter grow up. Well, not really grow up since she was a homunculus, but the idea was sound. With someone like Sakura as a sister, it would hopefully stamp out the slightly sociopathic tendencies his little girl had picked up from the Einzberns. Unfortunately, he didn't have high expectations for that. It seemed to be part of her personality at this point.

What would Irisviel say if she could see him now?

-Break-

Harry arrived at Rin's home, surveying the house for a moment before taking a tentative step past the small line marking the edge of the bounded fields surrounding the mansion. With a sensation like being wrapped in plastic, he passed through the barrier without incident. He floated up to the doorway and reached for the handle before checking himself and simply walking through it. His mental processing to recreate his body was nearly complete. He would be able to do it here. Maybe the surprise would suppress the immediate violent reaction.

He floated around the house, searching for the girls. As he passed through the living room, he saw Rin nursing a cup of tea, eyes red and puffy from crying. He made a note to apologize for her for snapping at her earlier. He had figured out that it was Mainyu's influence, but it was somewhat his fault for making her bad situation worse.

He found his way back to the guest room they had stayed in, and hesitated at the door. He hated the idea of seeing the girls grieving for him.

No, he deserved this. Even if he couldn't think of another option at the time, he had hurt them. The least he could do would be to look at what he had caused.

Slowly, he stepped through the door and into the room.

The sobbing was what got him the most. There wasn't a dry eye in the room, with the exception of Assassin. Sakura and Illya were sitting in the center of the bed, curled up in sleep, having cried themselves into exhaustion. The sheets beneath them were completely soaked from tears. Holding their heads in their laps were Rider and Caster. Rider had glistening tears running down her face as she gently brushed Sakura's hair, to comfort both herself and the sleeping girl. Caster had Illya using her as a pillow and despite usually never breaking composure, was a sobbing mess.

His two younger maids were both sitting in a large armchair, both crying their eyes out while Monica stood behind them, running her fingers through their hair and whispering comforting words. Fortunately, neither were paying attention to her face, because she was crying as much as they were. Saber sat across the room, glaring at Archer through a film of tears, hand twitching as if barely restraining from drawing Excalibur herself. The Servant of the Bow just endured it, looking at the floor guiltily, his face covered in bandages and two large cloths encasing his shoulders, evidence of some injury.

Harry regretted forcing the Servant to swing the sword, but he couldn't bear the thought of making Saber do it. With her being as she was, she would have immediately committed suicide, even if she was not at fault, but her notion of honor would accept nothing less from her, and telling her to not do it would be the equivalent to spitting on everything she had sacrificed in her life.

Assassin simply stood impassively in the corner, appearing entirely unaffected by events. Given the nature of her devotion, he imagined that she simply denied his death, or had faith in his glorious resurrection. He would have gotten a headache had he possessed a head at what his literally coming back from the dead would do to the black haired Servant's devotion. He dearly hoped that she didn't get in her head that now that he had "proved" himself a God, that he needed a Messiah, preferably one born of him and his most faithful follower.

As he gazed at his loved ones, he felt the formation of his body complete. He closed his eyes and reviewed it carefully. One slip up with the nucleic acid and he'd be reborn as a duck. After several minutes of intense concentration, he found no fault with the process. It would restore his body as it was, with the exception of the scars. He didn't need another reminder of Zouken. He initiated it.

-Break-

The room was quiet as Rider sat on the bed, holding Sakura's head in her lap and comforting her, despite her own tears and self-hatred. She was slightly concerned for Sakura. The girl had knelt over Harry's ashes for a couple minutes before mumbling over and over to herself that he wasn't dead, in a slightly unhinged manner. She didn't stop this monologue until she had fallen asleep in her lap at the Tohsaka manor. Then it seemed the floodgates broke and she started crying out for him in her sleep, and it took her intervention to get her to calm down enough to simply sob quietly.

A light started glowing near the doorway. Fearing an attack, she jumped up to shield Sakura and Illya, Caster mimicking her actions as Saber drew her sword, Monica flicked her wrist, extending her staff, and Archer summoned two swords while Assassin oddly didn't react. The two children looked up sleepily, confused as to the loss of their pillows.

Blue electricity flickered around the doorway, focusing on a point and slowly kicking up a cloud of smoke. The arcs of blue lightening then intensified, changing the cloud of dust into something looking like a thundercloud.

The Servants tensed, ready to annihilate whatever came out.

A small, shoe clad foot stepped out of the smoke. Everyone froze, except Assassin, who dropped to her knees in reverence.

Harry stepped out of the smoke, a very uncertain smile stretching his face as he surveyed the occupants of the room. He was scratching his head awkwardly, sheepishly, as one would do when faced with a group of angry, grieving, and most likely emotionally unstable women, whose emotions could just as well switch to elation than to anger, making him a prime target for their fury.

"I'm back," he whispered softly, almost uncertainly.

Saber was the first to react, hesitantly, as if unsure as to whether or not he was real, she stepped towards him. She reached out, caressing his cheek, her still armored hand softly trailing his face.

After several seconds of inspecting his face, and making sure that she wasn't seeing things, she then reared back and delivered a backhand that sent him impacting against the door, several feet away.

"WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING YOU IDIOT?!"

At seeing the attack upon her newly returned Master, Rider simply reacted without thinking. She flashed forward, pinning Saber to the wall and delivering a brutal knee to her stomach, making use of her height advantage. The blonde doubled over, but the taller woman grabbed her throat, pushing her against the wall. She might not have noticed yet, but the way the purple-haired Servant was hissing lowly was eerily similar to a snake about to attack, and warning the one that had upset it that they better get the Hell away before they were hurt. Her hair had even begun shifting slightly, almost as if it had a life on its' own, and was about to attack.

" _Don't you_ _ever_ _do that again. Angry at him or not, you don't touch Master like that again. Understood?_ " she hissed through clenched teeth. It was an overreaction, but his death had caused her to become paranoid for him. Nothing would ever touch him without his permission while she anywhere nearby. She was a protector, and she was damn well going to protect him. He had died because she had failed in her duty to shield him, and she would _never_ fail again. She had gotten a _third_ chance, and by all those wretched Gods above, she would rather dismember herself with a rusty spoon than ever entertain the idea of failing _again_.

Saber looked slightly guilty, before nodding. There were still a few tense moments as the purple haired Servant glared at the blonde one, still holding her by the throat.

"Let her go, Rider. I deserved that one," groaned Harry, from his place on the floor.

"As you wish, Master," she said coldly, letting up her grip on the Servant.

She turned to see him picking himself up off the ground, dusting his clothes off. She rapidly checked him for visible injuries, sighing in relief at his apparent health.

Two blurs, one purple and one white whipped past her, almost matching her own speed, before colliding into Harry with the force of a speeding bullet.

"Harry!"

"Big Brother!"

"Hey you two," he said, groaning under their weight as they latched onto him, "I know it doesn't make up for any of it, but I'm really, _really_ sorry."

Sakura just nuzzled into his chest happily, having gotten over her denial. He was back, that was all that mattered. "It's alright, you're back now. That's all that matters."

Suddenly, a black aura manifested over her head, as her shadows responded to her will.

"But if you _ever_ _think_ _of_ leaving me like that again, we are going to have a _problem_ ," she said threateningly, her hug growing slightly painful.

He raised his hands in surrender. While Sakura was normally a very sweet girl, the few times she was truly upset, she became someone entirely different, who stopped at _nothing_ to get what she wanted. And by the Root, he didn't want someone like that willing to hurt him.

"Alright! Alright! You win!"

"Alright then!" she said, smiling pleasantly, "You're all forgiven, but don't do that again!"

Leaning down, she gave him a long peck on the lips, making sure that Harry knew better than to break the kiss, before eventually letting him go and standing up, a wide smile on her blushing face. Illya clung to him a few moments longer, so he stood up anyway. She stayed clamped on him like a tiny white haired monkey, so he just let her stay there. If this was her way on making sure that he was truly there, he would oblige her. That, and he could feel the moisture of her tears soaking through his shirt, so he wasn't about to move her.

The second he was on his feet again, the maids jumped him. Leanna and Joy were just happy that he was back; Monica was as well, but the harsh whispers she gave him while she hugged him were a good warning as to what she would do if he was reckless again. Although her threat was less than impressive since she couldn't prevent her voice from croaking in happiness.

Caster and Rider both hugged him, Caster subtly checking to ensure that he really was back and wasn't some elaborate impostor, Angra Mainyu had tried to come back once, she wasn't about to let it desecrate her Master's memory by passing itself as the loving boy she cared for. Once she was satisfied, she joined Rider in attempting to crush his ribs.

Saber looked conflicted from her position in the corner. Harry wasn't entirely sure what change she had undergone after his death, but it appeared at least to be a positive one. Prior to his death, she would have praised him for his selfless, noble, and admittedly stupid sacrifice. Instead, she slapped him and called him an idiot. At least she seemed on track to learn how to act more like a human and less an emotionless machine.

It seemed Saber reached a decision, because she marched right up to him, face red, and grabbed his cheeks. Rider watched her like a hawk, tensing in case she needed to intervene. She had not forgotten the backhand the blonde had given Harry earlier, and while she didn't think the blonde would do something like that again, she would _not_ assume the best.

The blonde kneeled in front of him, and, swift as a snake, grabbed his head, and crashed her lips on his. It was…different from the kisses he was used to from his other Servants, truth be told, as Saber seemed to have absolutely _no_ experience at kissing, and was just clamping her lips on his, while shoving her tongue down his throat, an action that made him widen his eyes comically.

He was completely floored. Saber had always seen herself as a weapon first, a knight second, and a woman didn't even rate the list. For her to take an action as bold as kissing him, French kissing him even, showed some major change in her. He would have to ask her about it later, when they were away from prying ears.

Eventually, she released him, allowing them to take a deep breath each, the blonde knight's face a crimson red, and her breathing a bit too fast. Still, her face was set in a stern mask as she stared at him.

"Your idiotic sacrifice made me... reconsider my value system somewhat, Master. I may be your Sword, but I can also be your woman. No, in fact, I _will_ be your woman if it is the last thing I do. You owe that much to me, at the very least. Or will you not take responsibility for your actions?" she asked.

He put a hand on her shoulder, looking into her green eyes, before reaching up and reciprocated the kiss. It appeared that this broke her stern resolve because her face flashed up red again and she returned it.

The kiss didn't last long, but it didn't have to. Saber was just coming to terms with her emotions, it wouldn't do good to go much further than he did. Saber seemed perfectly satisfied by the end though.

He looked around the room for Assassin, but didn't see her. Not until he looked down anyway. She was on her knees, head pressed against the floor (a task he wondered how she managed to accomplished, since her breasts should in all logic prevent her from doing so), and was occupied muttering prayers to him under her breath. He just sighed in exasperation, knowing that all hope of ever convincing her that he wasn't some form of divine entity had just been lost by his resurrection. He knew that the only way to get her to stop groveling was to reward her faith.

"Good job, Assassin. Rise."

Like a shadow, she rose to her full height before taking a stance behind his shoulder. Knowing her various insecurities, he turned around, reached up, and patted her on the head. The veritable _purr_ this elicited showed that he had taken the correct course of action. Something told him that he was going to regret rewarding her fanaticism later, but for now he guessed it was the best he could do.

Finally, Caster looked at him. While relieved, she also seemed perplexed, a valid reaction to the fact that he had essentially just reformed from nothing.

"Master, I know this may not be the most opportune time, but I do have to ask. How, exactly, are you still alive?"

"Well," he chuckled awkwardly rubbed his head, "It's kind of a long story."

-Break-

Harry was busy getting ready for bed. He had explained the appearance of the Third Magic and his theory for his possession of it. Caster had seemed intrigued, Illya was awed, and Assassin seemed to entirely ignore it in favor of her "glorious and holy resurrection" theory. He just let her be, knowing that he would never sway her from the idea anymore. Halfway through the discussion Rin had come in about something and passed out in fright at seeing him. He'd explain things to her in the morning, to leave her the time to come to terms with things. Kiritsugu had come by to see what all of the commotion was about and upon learning that Harry was real, surprised him by enveloping him in a parental hug.

He had to admit, it felt rather good, to have a parental figure that didn't beat him or torture him. He had returned the hug and Kiritsugu had thanked him profusely for both finishing the job he couldn't and cleansing him of the curse, meaning that he could look after Illya. The Magus Killer then offered to adopt both him and Sakura. He had opened his mouth to state his indecision when Illya made the decision for him, crying that now "Big Brother and Big Sister will now _really_ be Big Brother and Big Sister! Yay!" as she jumped up and down and celebration.

Berserker had materialized halfway through the discussion and had stood glaring at Kiritsugu as he usually did. What caught Harry off guard was when the ebony giant focused his gaze on him, stomped over, and patted him on the head a few times with a hand the size of a dinner plate before stomping back over to a place between him and Illya, glaring at Kiritsugu all the way. Harry was entirely gobsmacked.

That was almost a tearful reunion from the Greek giant!

Sella and Leysritt had followed in after Kiritsugu, for similar reasons. He was once again stupefied when Leysritt gave him a big hug like Leanna, while Sella gave hers in a far more reserved manner, whispering thanks in his ear for what he did for Illya.

Once all of that was over, Berserker had materialized outside the door as he usually did while Illya's two maid went to the guest room they shared. Which led him to his current situation. As he removed his shirt, revealing his now unscarred torso, a multitude of lights suddenly flashed in front of him, while a man appeared in the room. An elderly man with a bushy beard, graying hair, and red eyes bearing a twinkle of madness. And the man responsible for sending here in the first place.

In an instant, Rider had him pinned to the floor, dagger at his throat and Assassin had a grip on his head, ready to pop it at his orders. He was a bit surprised by the lack of reaction from their guest, but then again due to his unhinged sense of humor, and the fact that he was essentially pinned to the ground by two beautiful women, he guessed it was understandable. He wouldn't put it past him to make a joke about S&M plays to the Servants later, either.

"Wait." He sighed, as both Heroic Spirits looked at him questioningly.

"Kischur Zelretch Von Schweinorg, we meet again," he said grinning.

"Harry!" the Dead Apostle exclaimed jovially, well as jovially as he could with his face being planted in the carpet by his Servants, "Last time we met, you were much smaller. And had far fewer girlfriends. Already building a harem, my boy? I'm so proud of you!"

"You know him?" Sakura asked incredulously. Zelretch was famous in the Magus world, what with him being a True Magician, a Dead Apostle, _and_ someone who had saved the Earth when the original Crimson Moon had tried to smash the Moon on it. Needless to say, any Magus worth their Crest knew about him.

"Aye. That is another kind of long story," he said sheepishly.

"Explain." came the unanimous chorus of the girls in the room.

"Well, exactly how familiar are all of you with the Second True Magic?"

-Break-

It took Harry about fifteen minutes to explain to everyone his background with Zelretch, his home reality, how the old Wizard Marshall sent him to this reality to fix the Grail War, and his promise of a family. Needless to say, all the females present were beaming at Harry at the end of the explanation, while they glared at the aged Dead Apostle for knowingly putting him through Hell.

"So, Zelretch, what exactly are you here for? I understand that I fulfilled my end of the bargain, but you also fulfilled yours. I have quite a few loved ones here."

"Well kid, here's how it is. You literally saved this entire universe from a malevolent god, and if I don't pay you back it just sets a bad example, doesn't it? So here is what I'm gonna do for you. I'm going to take you under my wing. From what I hear, you got Kiritsugu back there become your new dad. I'm gonna be your new gramps, Sakura and Illya too. I'm gonna teach you how to use the Kaleidoscope so you can pop back between here and your home world. Trust me, interesting stuff is happening there, and you're gonna want to get involved in."

Harry was stunned. It wasn't every day that a Master True Magician appeared in your bedroom, declared you his new grandson, and offered to _teach_ you one of the most powerful magics in the Multiverse. He was beginning to wonder if he had ever truly woken up from his dream with Gaia, as it seemed he was already well on his way to become one of the most powerful beings on the planet at not even eleven years old. He was, after all, able to use the Denial of Nothingness, the Heaven's Feel, and was supposedly someone with the full backing of the Will of the Planet. Either one of these things was impossible by normal Magus standards, and he had done _all three_.

"Pardon, sir?" he asked, briefly stumbling over his words. Technically he didn't really have to respect Zelretch, for respect for another Magus was usually determined by their status compared to your own, and since Harry was a True Magician twice over, technically his rank was higher than the old man's. However, he was decided to be polite to his elders, so he made sure that his words _were_ polite.

"Don't call me sir. Call me Gramps, or Pappy, or whatever else you can come up with." Grinned the old man, looking like he was having fun causing a nervous breakdown to everyone in the room.

"Yes... Gramps. Speaking of which, how exactly are you so sure I can perform the Second True Magic? I can do the First and Third apparently, but I still haven't figured out how. I'd have made more of an effort, but I've been slightly busy."

"You mean you didn't work it out kid? What did you think happened when someone with the Holy Grail implanted in them developed a reality marble? The big thing the Grail does is open a portal to Akasha. That's what you got as a reality marble, a giant link to the Akashic record. What did you do before you got the Denial of Nothingness?"

"Uhh, I ate an apple off of a tree," he replied.

"Uh huh. Now tell, me what does your reality marble look like?"

"A really perfect garden. There are a bunch of extinct animals, I can't find a species of plant that isn't there, and that one tree is in the central clearing."

"Alright kid, now I want you to think for a moment. What is the most perfect, ancient garden in the world, the wellspring of all creation? And what famous tree is in it?"

"The Garden of Eden, and The Tree of Knowledg-"

"Got it in one kid. That's your reality marble's name, coincidentally. Garden of Eden. It's basically a mobile, mental workshop fully equipped for whatever you need. With your Denial of Nothingness, anything you build in there you can make in the outside world."

"How exactly do you know all of this... Gramps. I mean, it all makes sense, but how exactly do you know all of this?" groaned Harry. It didn't make sense! Or maybe Zelretch had been spying on an alternate world similar to the one they were in?

"Well, kiddo, I'm just that good."

The entire room just stared at him, completely baffled by the bizarre Magician.

"Oh alright. I'm Master of the Kaleidoscope. If I want to know something, I can either just monitor it in this universe, or check out a virtually identical parallel universe. There's one where I do the exact same thing to you, but a mouse in Croatia has an extra toe. That's the one I generally used as a comparison. Completely the same, except for one tiny, irrelevant detail."

"I see," was all Harry could say.

"So then Harry, what do you say? Will you be my apprentice?"

The wide, unhinged smile sent his way made shivers travel down his spine, but he couldn't deny that Zelretch _had_ given him what he had always craved, a family, and that knowing the Second True Magic would be a boon. He could already tell that the Clock Tower were going to freak out when they discovered that there was a new True Magician, and while he had Servants and Homonculi to look after Sakura and Kiritsugu, it never hurt to have the ability to relocate to a universe where the Clock Tower didn't even _exist_.

"O-Okay, Gramps."

The grin on Zelretch's face was widely known as the bane of the Multiverse.

-Break-

"Come on Harry! Run faster!" cried the psychotic old man behind him.

He was deeply regretting letting the old man teach him the Kaleidoscope. His idea of "teaching" was dragging him in through the front door of the Clock Tower, announcing him the Master of the First and Third True Magics, and then immediately dragging him up to his new quarters. While they hadn't stayed long enough to see the resulting chaos, Harry had heard from his maids that several influential Lords were already contemplating on how to get in his good graces, and that a few Magi had even died from shock then and there.

From there, he was given an unyielding, brutal training in the Second True Magic. It wasn't Zouken's brand of brutal, there was nothing like the crest worms, the old man just didn't accept anything less than perfection. Over the course of a month the old man taught him the operation of his reality marble, Garden of Eden, and the operation of parallel worlds. His free time was mostly devoted to the study of the various disciplines he thought would be useful, such as Thought Acceleration and Memory Partition. Zelretch was all too happy to provide books on these subjects, as he had told Harry that having an organized mind made everything a lot easier (although he truly didn't want to contemplate what the Dead Apostle's idea of "organized" meant).

Even in his sleep, he had received no rest. Zelretch had explained to him the situation in his home, how he was the subject of a prophecy in a society of _wizards_ of all things. How that strange Tom fellow in his brain was a remnant of the evil dark lord that had tried to kill him as a baby. The Horcrux was essentially removed, leaving only information and experience. His sleep was primarily dedicated to practicing something called "Occlumency", which was essentially the ability to organize the mind to make it more efficient and able to repel invaders. He suspected that his reality marble would stymie most trespassers, since it literally required a way of thinking completely incomprehensible to the average human, but it never hurt to have a backup plan.

What he was currently absorbed in was the Wizard Marshal's idea of "training."

Once he got the basic ideas of the Kaleidoscope down, he had been presented with a rod, which by Zelretch's explanation was "locked on" to the Clock Tower Universe. Then, without a word, he would get dropped into random realities, and stuck there until he could synchronize with the rod. The first reality had been rather mundane, at least by the crazy magus' standards. It was a society in which people could only communicate by screaming at the top of their lungs. He had been stuck there for four days. It was annoying, but not life threatening, fortunately. That came much later. Like now.

This reality, several down the line, was one in which the Cthulhu Mythos was real. He was stuck running from a giant tentacled monstrosity the size of Midnight (the giant-sized one) while Zelretch rode on its shoulder with a megaphone and a pellet gun, taking potshots every once in a while. Eventually, he escaped the thing long enough to concentrate and synchronize with the rod, access the Kaleidoscope, use the rod to set "coordinates" as it were, and travel right as the being smashed the warehouse he was hiding in. He popped out in his apartment, where Sakura was reading a book with Monica.

The girls had all come along with him, staying in the _very_ generous apartments he had been given within the Clock Tower. Within ten minutes of Zelretch's announcement of his True Magic, Lorelei Barthomeloi, Vice-Director of the Clock Tower and really the highest authority figure had stormed in and demanded proof. He had instantly projected the diamond sword. Wordlessly, he handed it over and she looked it over like it contained all the secrets of the universe. Finally, it dawned on her that he was telling the truth and she nearly fell to her knees in awe.

The Barthomeloi family for some reason almost worshiped the Denial of Nothingness. Some hypothesized that it was because users literally possessed the power of the Creator, but that was just speculation. He just prayed that Assassin and Lorelei never had a long conversation, or he had serious risk of a cult on his hands. And with the authority the Head of the Barthomeloi family wielded, she might even make it the official Magic religion, just on principle. And given that most Magi wouldn't mind accepting said religion so long as they could keep trying to find a way to reach the Root, well he kept his fingers crossed.

Needless to say, doors were open to him at the Clock Tower from then on.

On his few days off, Harry visited Kiritsugu in the new Emiya estate. Feeling guilty about the destruction of his house, he had gathered a bunch of supplies, projected the rest, and alchemically turned the already large house into a sprawling manor. The neighborhood association had raised hell about it, but Illya just went down and hypnotized them into compliance. The house was nearly triple its original size, with room for a workshop for Kiritsugu, kitchens for himself, a workshop for Illya, a workshop for Sakura, a single bedroom with a _massive_ bed for himself and the girls, with an adjoining bathroom. Really, the house just had everything he, Illya, Sakura, Kiritsugu, or the Servants could want.

A similar process of hypnosis had gone into, making Kiritsugu into the legal guardian of Harry, Sakura, and Illya. A couple of disoriented social workers, some fake paperwork, and voila! Adoption!

Speaking of Illya, he'd had a rather interesting conversation with her several days prior.

-Flashback-

Harry had just finished preparing dinner and went to wake her from her nap. He opened the door to find her writhing on the floor, her circuits flaring as an uncomfortable heat filled the room. He rushed over to her, but didn't know what to do. He was about to try calling her maids when she calmed down a bit, collapsing in exhaustion. After telling the others he would be late for dinner, he put her in the bed and waited for her to wake up.

It took her about an hour before she awoke. She tried to sit up, but he put a hand up, keeping her down. He had demanded an explanation, and while she had avoided answering at first, he was nothing if not stubborn, and he had eventually managed to wear her down and coax what had happened out of her. The resulting explanation had almost seen him calling all his Servants for a coordinated strike on the Eizbern family.

It was bad enough to take a young, innocent girl and turn her against her father simply over a grudge. It was another to reduce that child's lifespan to a couple of years at most simply to make her a more effective killer. It was during Illya's tearful confession that he learned of the near-constantpain she was in, both due to her modifications and the strain of supporting a massive Servant like Berserker without the aid of the Grail. Apparently, she had kept quiet out of fear that if Harry fixed her, she would have to send Berserker back to the Throne. She loved her Servant dearly, nearly as much as a father, or him, and would have been devastated if she had been forced to do so.

She then in a much more sly tone, reminded him that Berserker was also rather fond of him and would likely be cooperative were he to take over the contract.

Sometimes he forgot that she was raised by the Einzberns.

He had of course agreed, if only to lessen the strain on her body, and at that point, he had more or less accepted the idea that he was akin to a prana battery, with a capacity dwarfing even Illya's, despite the fact that she was specifically modified to have a prana capacity higher than anyone else. He had called Caster in just as Berserker materialized. The ebony giant seemed to get the general idea of what was going on at least, as he patted Illya on the head like a father comforting a child, repeating the action on Harry as well.

Caster had then taken out Rule Breaker, since it was the easiest way to end the contract between the Homonculus and the Servant. Pricking him with it proved a slight problem due to his God Hand Noble Phantasm, and the end solution was the Mad Servant sticking out his tongue and getting poked, while Illya could barely keep from laughing, since Berserker looked like he was at the dentist. When the dagger penetrated, he felt another weight on his prana, far bigger than any of the others along with the burning of command seals. Unlike the mental links with his other Servants, which they turned on and off at will, the link with Berserker was a constant stream on his exact desire to kill. Harry possessed a new-found appreciation for Illya at the knowledge of how much thought he had to dedicate to telling the Servant, "No, I really don't want Kiritsugu dead. No, not anyone else either. No, I also don't want this house leveled, thank you very much."

Illya let out an audible and visible sigh of relief at the strain being removed from her circuits. For anyone that wasn't a True Magician, that strain must have been unbearable. With that sorted, he moved on to fixing the various "modifications" the Einzbern family had made on her. They were rather extensive, spanning her entire body, but severely limiting her lifespan. Fortunately, his knowledge of homunculi made the majority easy to remove, and his knowledge of the Denial of Nothingness helped with the rest. When the process was done, Illya was a perfectly normal little girl (well, perhaps not _normal_ , but as normal as someone like her could be in those circumstances). She was still a powerful magus, more powerful than someone like Rin, but not by much. She would live a long life, grow at a normal rate, and use magecraft like a normal magus.

As the German homunculus encased him in one of those thirty minute hugs of hers, his mind drifted to his vengeance on the Einzberns.

And what vengeance it would be. One did not casually dick with the family of a True Magician. Maybe he'd even call in Zelretch for help. He had claimed her as his granddaughter after all. Destroying the Eizberns was one thing, but with the old bloodsucker's cooperation, he would also likely destroy their sanity as well.

-The Next Day-

Panic filled the grand halls of the Einzbern castle as explosions rocked them. The female combat homunculi that also doubled as maids for the castle ran all around, trying to find and eliminate the source of the intrusion as the various Einzbern magi screamed at and generally degraded them. Any rational person would have mutinied at the treatment, but the legion of maids had been conditioned since birth to show complete, unwavering loyalty to the head of the Einzbern family.

Fortunately, Harry had taken this into account.

One by one, the various magi making up the Einzbern clan started dropping. The methods of killing were rather diverse. Some had their heads exploded, others their hearts crushed, some poisoned, and others stabbed.

Finally, only one was left standing: Jubstacheit von Einzbern. He had barricaded himself in his office, with a dozen maids guarding the door. As the Head of the Family, he was the one considered the most important to protect, as only he had access to all the secrets of the family's Magecraft, and until he started teaching an heir, should he die those secrets would vanish with him.

Little did he know, even the special protection provided by specially created Homonculi didn't do much to stop an Assassin class Servant on a warpath.

Behind the panicking white haired magus, a black form materialized, hidden in the shadows. A hypersonic sound was emitted from her mouth, which happened to react to magical circuits in a very specific manner.

The Einzbern head suddenly relaxed at his desk. Reaching into its drawers, he removed a piece of legal paper and a pen. He wrote a document to the effect as he spoke over the synchronized resonator crystals embedded throughout the castle, acting as a PA system of sorts.

"Attention all castle personnel. I, Jubstacheit von Einzbern, head of the Einzbern family, do on this day announce my stepping down from the office of head of the Einzbern family. As payment for the crimes committed against him and his family and as I bear no naturally born heirs eligible for the position, I name to effect one Harry James Emiya to the title of head of Clan Einzbern. All assets, privileges, obligations, and personnel that come with the position are to be turned over from me to him. This change is to be effective immediately. Long live the Einzberns.

Signed, Jubstacheit von Einzbern"

As he finished his signature, Assassin walked up behind him, picked up the document, checked it over, sealed it in an envelope, and then forced the magus under her control to run out into the wilderness to be eaten by wolves. A fitting end for someone who had done the same to Illya when it had been time to summon a Servant. The Eizberns had supposed that the desperation would motivate her, and motivate her it had.

As Harry strolled up to the gates of the castle, flanked by Leanna, Monica, and Joy, the group of forty maids blockading it demanded identification. He stated his name for them and watched as they all stood to the side and bowed. They opened the gate, and followed after him as he went in. He ended up repeating the process with every group of maid he passed until he arrived at the largest courtyard, a steady stream of combat maids following reverently in his wake.

Inside the snowy courtyard, he stepped up to the podium and surveyed the crowd. With the Einzbern clan dead, the maids were the only ones left. As the castle was massive and they also had to double as security personnel for a bunch of paranoid magi, there were quite a lot of them. Also, as he later learned, the death of transference of the head of the clan activated special protocols, engaging the homunculi usually stored in stasis for later use or labeled as failures. This was to ensure that the entire staff was aware of who the new head was, so there was no miscommunication. When was all said and done, there were about one and a half thousand young women gathered below him in the massive courtyard. They were looking up at him expectantly, as if ready to judge his worthiness.

"Greetings," he began, "Homunculi of the Einzbern family. As you have no doubt heard, I am Harry Emiya, the new head of the family. As such, I have apparently inherited all of you as property. I do not wish for that. I do not wish for companions and servants that are only seen by themselves and others as property, so I will say this: any woman here who wishes to leave, now or at any point in the future is free to do so. No actions will be taken against them and no negative consequences will occur. They will receive a generous severance package, containing pay they would have received equivalent for their time in service here. That being said, any who do stay will receive salary, benefits, vacation days, and every other perk that comes with being an employee of the Einzbern family. Now, I ask of you all: will you stay here under me, or leave to find your own path?"

There was a tense moment as the rows of assembled combat maids gazed up at him, looking into his eyes as if attempting to judge his sincerity, their gaze also flickering to the three homunculi maid behind him, noting how they stood proudly and tall behind him. It seemed that a silent verdict was passed as one by one the homunculi fell to their knees, heads bowed in respect, before all declaring in a singular, unanimous voice,

"All Hail Lord Harry Einzbern!"


	11. Chapter 11: Magic or Magecraft?

**Hello again Internet! Neolyph has returned to bring you the chapter you all have all been waiting for! The start of the Hogwarts arc! Loved the response on that last chapter. Finished it at like 4 A.M, so I wasn't too sure of the quality. God that one got long on me. Anyway, thanks for all of the reviews, everyone seemed to like it. This story is kind of how I let off stress, so I'm glad that people are enjoying it. Anyway, thanks to all who read, review, follow, and favorite.**

 **The polls are in!** **This story will be a WBWL story.** **End total of the poll at time of writing is 135 Yay, 61 Nay. With double the votes, WBWL wins. Setup for it will begin this chapter. I apologize if this turns some people off. I will try to be intelligent about it. No character will act in a purely irrational manner. At least, I hope not.**

 **Now, for reviews**

 **Thundramon: You really think the first chapter was the best? I still wince when I read some of the stuff in that chapter. As I saw it, Zelretch promised Harry a family, so this is his way of fulfilling the bargain. I figured Harry could do with an actual lordship, and if he can get revenge for Illya while he's at it, that's just icing on the cake. Lorelei is a disciplinarian, but she does essentially worship the Denial of Nothingness. I've never read another fic with Jubstacheit in it, but he didn't really do enough to be declared OOC. All he really did was lock his door. I might have to get a bit creative with growth. It will likely be more character-wise and learning more applications of his existing abilities. I am going to do at least Philosopher's Stone. I have an idea that requires it. Nope, WBWL.**

 **PhaseHand: Might be a bit quicker than a year or two. All depends on how much exposure Assassin gets to the Einzbern homunculi.**

 **madcow360: I don't think he really needs to shut down the tournament. He literally annihilated the Grail. The man won.**

 **Im a guest: Oh you better believe it's real. May the GAR be with you as well.**

 **Squadpunk 2.0: Not in the Potterverse. I tore through canon trying to come up with something he wouldn't just steamroll, but I couldn't. Instead, Potterverse is going to be his safe dimension, where he doesn't have to worry about shit actively trying to kill him. That will be every other universe.**

 **GreyMan19: Just wait till Harry finds out about those**

 **Yo: Worshipers do not a god make. Otherwise, that insane motherfucker from the Jonestown massacre would be eligible for a heroic spirit summoning.**

 **FuZzvKiNgZz: Yeah, it's kind of hard to keep to be a moody kid when you are surrounded by people like Assassin and Illya. We'll see about Bellatrix.**

 **AzureStorms: I think that the difference is that my character isn't some self-insert fetish-fuel OC. I don't intend for this story to be taken super seriously, and I don't think I could if I tried. I mean, I try to write big emotional scenes like end of chapter 9 and start of 10, but then I try to write characters like Assassin and I just can't make it dramatic anymore and things get comedic again.**

 **Delta8: A more thorough explanation of his reality marble will be provided this chapter. It's not quite as OP as you're thinking, though it eventually will be.**

 **duskrider: Harry will have to be capable not to leave Assassin around the army of young, impressionable women bearing an infatuation with him. If he doesn't, he'll end up with whatever the maid version of the Sisters of Battle is.**

 **Pikminman101: I originally just wrote the cult stuff as theoretical laughs, but the more I think about, it'd be** _ **fucking hilarious**_ **if it actually happened, so I'm jotting it down as a definite maybe. No Lorelei in the harem, she had too much pride, even for a Denial of Nothingness user. I'm not sure about a Lancer. I like Cuchulain quite a lot. Maybe he'll get re-summoned. I'll try a lemon and run it by my beta at some point. If he green-lights it I'll put it up. Won't happen for a while though.**

 **Stilphyell: Don't know about her. May get a Lancer though. It'll depend.**

 **Undeen: Oh it's a definite possibility.**

 **Mangahero18: Quite so. I'll try to balance it as much as possible though.**

Chapter 11: Magic or Magecraft?

The Clock Tower was in pandemonium. News had arrived that Harry Emiya, the ten-year-old wielder of _two_ True Magics, had decimated the Einzbern clan, one of the oldest and most respected magi clans in history. Not only that, but he had usurped both the position of clan head and the army of homunculi the clan possessed, something that had quite a few Nobles up in arms, despite his status as a True Magician. That was a thing to be feared, even discounting the True Magician business. The Einzberns were known to be especially paranoid, even for magi. Every homunculus they kept could fight at least on par with a Clock Tower Enforcer, with the upper tiers being on the level of low to mid ranked Servants.

And a ten-year-old now had their undying loyalty. Many wondered if he actually planned on taking control of the Clock Tower, for it was the first time in Magi history that someone had amassed that much power. And since the Clock Tower was the organization who chose whose research deserved to be funded, well it would hardly be surprising for someone with as much power to try and take control of the assets that would grant them unlimited possibilities for their research.

Not to mention the fact that Lorelei Barthomeloi had done _nothing_ about his blatant murder of an entire respected clan. When the young magus had come back to the Clock Tower, she had actually _bowed_ slightly at the waist as he passed. Not a single reprimand was issued, not even a respectful request to avoid repeating the massacre. A silent agreement was passed between all Magi in the Clock Tower that day.

Never even think of crossing Harry Emiya, now Einzbern. Not if you valued your and your clan's existences.

-Break-

The week following his takeover of the Einzbern clan had actually been rather stressful for Harry. Had Monica and Caster not helped him out, he might have gone slightly insane, or at least more insane than the Reality Marble in his head, and his close proximity with Zelretch had already made him. He didn't care what anyone thought, actually having to go through the paperwork required to set up payrolls for one thousand and a half young women, or at least beings that _looked_ like young women, was something he hoped he would have to do only once. Even with his knowledge of healing, he still had phantom pains in his wrist after signing everything!

Once everything was sorted out, he had raided both the Einzbern library, and Jubstacheit's personal one, the Head of the family traditionally keeping the most advanced material separate from the rest, if only in case someone managed to raid their library. Suffice to say, he learned a great deal more than he originally did about alchemy. He gave both his Servants and the Einzbern maids free access to whatever reading materials they desired, although at first only a few had come forth, since entire lives of submission didn't simply go away like that. He estimated it would take a few more months before the Homunculi began feeling more comfortable with their new situation and started requesting things of him.

One thing that he did catch was Assassin slipping a book entitled, "Essays on Mental Partition" under her dress. He didn't really know why she was interested in it, but if she wanted to learn about it, he would let her. It still slightly terrified him to think of what she intended to do with what she learnt, given that she thought of him as a God that she had to serve to the best of his ability, but he could hardly begrudge her the right to learn.

He was actually somewhat concerned about letting Assassin have too much access to the Einzbern maids. As the only person in their entire lives that had given them anything resembling happiness, he discovered that they had become rather... infatuated with him. He feared that letting Assassin, who he discovered possessed A-rank Charisma as a hangover from her days as a charismatic zealot, mingle with a large amount of devoted, impressionable young women would lead to results he didn't even want to consider. The fact that Zelretch had taken to call the Einzbern Homunculi his "battle harem" also didn't help his paranoia. Sighing, he turned back to his book and tried to block the thought from his mind.

One thing had caught his eye in his readings about alchemy. It was a book he found that contained information on the alchemic practice where a magus imbued an inanimate object with a certain degree of intelligence. Well, perhaps "intelligence" was the wrong word. It was more like programming a computer. It couldn't learn, but it could do anything you had instructed it on how to do. The more complex you got with it, the harder it was, but the more intelligent the final product was. The best example he could find was Lord Waver Velvet's Volumen Hydragenum, which was considered the hallmark of success in the field. He wasted its potential however by simply using it as a menial servant, when it could easily become as dangerous as a fully-fledged Servant if he so wished.

Harry had a much better idea for it. His near-death experience had made him realize just how much it hurt those close to him to see him harmed. As such, he had resolved to take measures to better protect himself, and also those close to him. Since he was now immortal, there was little that could truly harm him, even though there were still things that could seriously do so, however he was much more worried about Sakura and Illyasviel, even if they always had a Servant around to protect them.

He began by entering his reality marble. Extensive testing had discovered three things, the first was regarding the archway. Without the presence of the horcrux it represented, it had instead become a portal to what was essentially Tom Riddle's brain. He could actively root around in there and uncover a wealth of information. The second was the central workshop, which he discovered he could mentally manipulate to suit his needs and whims, making working there significantly easier. The third subject he looked into was the tree that served as his link to Akasha. Zelretch had promised that he would be able to use it in time, but for the moment it was almost entirely useless. He found that by eating an apple from the tree, he would undergo a very painful sensation and then find that he had complete and total knowledge of _something._ The only problem was that he couldn't choose what it gave him information on. The first attempt had given him the complete Akashic record of comedians from the Philippines. The second had given him the complete Akashic record of Matthew Delicâte. After that, he stopped trying. He had access to the entirety of the universe's knowledge and information, but couldn't choose what it showed him.

He entered his workshop and started laying out plans.

The first step in his plan was to create a large amount of mithril. The reason for his choosing the substance was that it naturally permitted the channeling of prana through it. Mithril attracted prana like copper attracted electricity. It was a highly valued substance, with the entire Barthomeloi family only able to acquire enough to make a gauntlet, which Lorelei wore at all times. With his True Magic, it proved little trouble to make a lot of the substance. By alchemically modifying the structure, he changed its properties to keep it in a constantly liquid state, capable of becoming solid at will, sort of like Volumen Hydragenum.

However, instead of forcing it to stay in a humanoid form like the maid golem, he had other plans. As he began the programming of the materials, he added two advancements with the help of Caster. The first was the option to manipulate itself at will, allowing it to switch between a liquid metal form for himself and a humanoid form for if it operated independently. He saved himself the trouble of designing a humanoid form and simply stole the appearance of Volumen Hydragenum, as both a tribute and shortcut. He had no intention of using it as a maid like Lord Velvet, but it never hurt to have if he needed it, and he hoped that if it came to it, that the appearance would confuse an eventual foe long enough to give his creation an advantage. The other modification was the truly necessary one; he had Caster set up a mental link with the now intelligent metal, similar to the empathic link he held with his Servants. Volumen Hydragenum had no such thing, and it had proved to be quite necessary when the maid had gone on a rampage, claiming to be a killer robot coming from the future. He hoped that with the addition of the link, he would avoid such behavior, as he was not about to leave his creation unchecked.

His plan was to wear the material like an intelligent suit of armor under his clothes. Mithril was strong enough to block nearly any physical attack, and by manipulating the flow of prana in the material he would be able to deflect and redirect any magical based attacks. The empathic link permitted him to passively move the liquid coating in tune with him, so it simply felt like a second set of silver skin. The suit could also automatically be used as a weapon. He added two types of protocols for the suit to have. The first was based around imbuing the suit with the information necessary for protection, how to act as armor, how to magically decrease its density when not in use so that it was nearly weightless, when to become solid, how to redirect magic, and so forth. The second set of protocols were based around offense, different automated attack patterns, how to identify threats to him and how to respond, how to increase density of certain parts to increase the mass of the weaponized portions, search patterns to locate targets, etc.

When all was said and done and the completed item materialized in his reality marble workshop, he had quite possibly the most impressive Mystic Code he had ever created, with the exception of his homunculi, but he didn't really count them as Mystic Codes. In honor of his new ownership of the Einzbern clan, he decided on a proper German name.

"Panzer."

-Break-

A fist flashed towards Harry's head and he jerked it to the side, narrowly avoiding being hit. Unfortunately, this left him off-balance, as evidenced when a foot struck out and buckled his knee from behind, causing him to fall. Perhaps taking hand to hand lessons from both Mr. Kuzuki and Bazett at the same time was a mistake. As he picked himself up off the ground, spitting dirt out of his mouth, he recalled how this had all started.

Souichirou Kuzuki had become his third grade teacher one year. Years of association with a dangerous man like Zouken had allowed him to pick up the warning signs that all his classmates had missed, or dismissed as odd quirks His teacher was a killer, and a trained one at that. It was visible by the way he held himself, the way he acted, and the way his eyes were always void of any emotion, showing that he was more a killing machine than a true human.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one adept at reading people, because Mr. Kuzuki had pulled him aside after school and asked him what he intended to do with the knowledge of his activities. When Harry had replied that so long as he didn't threaten him or his loved ones, then he would do nothing, and that it wasn't his business, the impassive teacher seemed to grow some measure of respect for him, and he had patted him on the shoulder. As soon as the hand made contact, Harry's structural analysis kicked in, revealing that the deadly teacher possessed forty-five medium quality circuits. Needless to say, after a long discussion brought forth by this knowledge, Mr. Kuzuki had promptly resigned from his job as a teacher, and instead joined the Clock Tower, quickly becoming a respected Enforcer thanks to his almost supernatural skills.

Bazett Fraga McRemitz, as he later learned was the name of the young woman recovered from the Fuyuki Church, was already a Clock Tower Enforcer. She had despaired that she would likely be forced to abandon her career due to her missing arm, but Harry had taken pity on her, not to mention it never hurt to have and Enforcer in your debt, and alchemically crafted another for her, stronger than the old one. She had thanked him profusely and run back to reclaim her job.

When he had run across the two sparring, now apparently a romantic couple with their own version of foreplay, he had politely asked them to instruct him in hand to hand. It was little wonder that they had met, since both had reputations due to their unparalleled skills. Bazett was quite infamous for her abilities, and Kuzuki had been incredibly gifted _before_ he had learnt Reinforcement. With such abilities, it had only been a matter of time before they met, and traded blows. Ironically, it was their martial prowess that had drawn them closer, despite their different backgrounds. With teachers like them, it was little wonder that he was pushed to excel.

Which led to his current predicament, face down on the ground. This had been the process of the last couple of days. He would show up, and they would pulverize him for an hour or two. That wouldn't happen this time.

This time, he had brought a secret weapon.

He removed a small vial from his pocket, carefully concealing it in his sleeve. He uncorked it, letting the metal flow out of it, enveloping his entire body in a cool sensation, like being immersed in water, but without the motion resistance. The vial held much more than it should have, only being the size of his thumb, but such was the nature of alchemic alloys combined with magecraft. As he was wearing gloves, his entire body was stealthily concealed in armor, with the exception of the neck up. He had programmed Panzer to flow up and protect his head if necessary, but it wouldn't do to reveal his trump card too early. Some might consider using such a trick disgraceful, but Enforcers usually went by the principle that any trump card was good to use in a spar, so long as it didn't endanger their sparring partner's life. It helped them learn to think on their feet when there was suddenly a new variable in the fight, and such things had helped lower the number of dead Enforcers when they were faced with unexpected situations.

He stood back up, facing down the couple. They really were a match made in Akasha. Both were unparalleled fist fighters, each with their own unique style. Kuzuki fought like a snake, with distracting moves, constant swaying, and quick, precise strikes on pressure points. Bazett was less refined, but far more powerful, with heavy-handed punches, kicks that could crush cars, and a headbutt that once sent him flying. It was the perfect team, one of them distracting their opponent with precise, but unpredictable strikes, while the other crushed their resistance with blows that even when parried, left lasting damage. He shuddered at the idea of facing them outside of a spar, even as powerful as he was the idea was enough to scare the crap out of him.

"Panzer, Schützen," he whispered under his breath, initiating the armor's defensive protocols.

The second he was back on his feet; they came at him again, each a blur of movement as they sped to deliver their respective strikes. They both claimed that there was no time for recovery in combat, so the second he could move, it was back in action until the appointed two hours were up.

Bazett rushed him, runes stitched into her clothing lighting up to augment the power already given by her reinforcement, transforming heavy blows in terrifying blurs that could crush solid concrete. He had any number of counters to it, but the point of this training was to be able to operate without them, so he got by with matching her augmented power, but not surpassing it. Until today that is.

As the red haired Enforcer threw another jab at his face, rather than flinching back as he normally did, he instead _caught_ her fist with one of his hands. Panzer's impact protocols ensuring that the force was redistributed through the armor and into the ground beneath him. Bazett recovered from her surprise admirably by wrenching her fist out of his grip and following up with a kick towards the ribs. Once again, he simply took the hit, the kinetic energy flowing through the armor and harmlessly dissipating into the hard packed dirt of the sparring arena floor. He let out a smirk of pride at the success of the armor, which nearly proved his downfall.

His distraction with neutralizing Bazett caused him to lose track of Kuzuki, who slipped up behind him and delivered a reinforced pointed strike at the base of his neck. Fortunately, his armor _was_ paying attention, the silver coating sliding up in a flash and taking the strike instead, which would have broken the assassin's fingers had they not been reinforced. Both Enforcers shared a look before backing off.

"Someth'n you want ta tell us there, 'Arry?" the Irish woman asked, looking amused. Kuzuki simply looked on impassively, though the gleam of curiosity was unmistakable in his eyes.

Harry gave them a roguish grin, peering around to ensure that nobody was watching before removing his shirt, revealing the armor. Bazett seemed intrigued, stepping forward and giving the metal an experimental poke, resulting in it rippling. Harry had to mentally tell it to stand down, as it had interpreted the action as an attack.

"What the bleedin' 'ell is this Lad?" she inquired, scrutinizing the silver liquid.

He looked up at her proudly.

"It's my Mystic Code, I call it Panzer."

"What does it do?" inquired Kuzuki, who was eyeing the metal, as if deciding how much of a threat it was.

"It's basically the ultimate armor. It attacks, it defends, it can even operate independently of the user. I'm still troubleshooting it, which was why I brought it here. Figured I'd surprise you with it. What do you say, want to help me test it?"

Bazett got an eager gleam in her eyes at the prospect of a proper fight, instead of the beatdowns she usually delivered. While she didn't mind such things, as she saw them as an opportunity to learn how cornered fighters acted, she much preferred to have opponents who could actually fight her, something that very few could provide in the Clock Tower. Due to her style of fighting in close quarters, there were already few people who could spar with her, as most Enforcers, while decent in close quarters, _much_ preferred to deal with supernatural threats in the distance, where they at least had the possibility to retreat if their hits proved ineffective.

"You betta not disappoint me, Lad, or we gonna have a probl'm," she said, stalking back to the other end of the arena, Kuzuki matching her.

Seeing them tense for attack, he took the initiative.

Attempting to test the nonverbal commands, he closed his eyes and willed the armor to obey him, and it did.

Two gleaming whips flowed out from the base of his neck, elongating until they were roughly fifteen meters long each. They floated, poised, like scorpion's tails ready to strike. Bazett made the first move, dashing forward, but forced to dodge to the side as one whip snapped by, narrowly missing her and causing a massive crater where she had been. He had toned down the force it used so that it wouldn't kill them if struck, but other than that the armor was acting entirely by itself, without his input. As Bazett dodged the follow-up strike from the first whip, the second flowed around the side, hitting her in the back and knocking her on her face. She rolled with the hit, jumping back up and renewing her charge. As she did this, Kuzuki stealthily slipped off to the left, but the armor was having none of it. A slim tendril slid out from his pants leg like a snake, winding its way over to the stealthy magus, before tightening around his ankle and lifting him off the ground, dangling him in the air. One of the whips did the same to the still evading Bazett, holding her next to her boyfriend.

"Well Lad, col'r me impress'd," Bazett said with an appreciative look at the metal tentacle suspension her, "Would y' mind too terribly lett'n us down now though?"

He'd call this a successful field test.

-Break-

It was one month before his eleventh birthday that Harry first successfully used the Kaleidoscope without the assistance of a coordinate rod. He traveled to what was apparently his home dimension, arriving in the middle of London. Fortunately, it was a rather nondescript place, so nobody noticed his arrival, nor his departure several moments later. He excitedly told Zelretch the good news. The Wizard Marshall congratulated him, saying that he should be back and practice, so that he'd be able to easily travel between the two dimensions. Harry nodded happily, and with a whirl of color was gone.

Zelretch watched his young apprentice and grandson leave, feeling for perhaps the first time in his life, a touch of parental pride. He imagined that the Magus Killer felt something similar whenever he heard of his adopted son's accomplishments.

 _You know_ , he thought, _the kid's eleventh birthday is coming up, and he_ did _just make a major milestone in his apprenticeship. Maybe I should get him something. What do ten-year-old children like though? Candy? No, that is an awful present from someone like me,_ _and knowing Harry, he'd call me a pedophile_ _. Toys? No, the kid would be happier with a new book on energy transference or something. Books_ _then_ _? No, the kid's already got enough books. Making him a bit antisocial to be honest. A puppy? Yes, there's an idea._

 _I entirely agree_ , came a warm, motherly voice with no discernible origin, " _need to reward my champion. I think a loyal companion should,_ _as humans say, "do it"._

The mad cackling that emerged from the Kaleidoscope's office caused roughly half of the magi in the Clock Tower to take a month long vacation.

-Break-

As Harry was making his fifth practice run between his home dimension and the Clock Tower, something went slightly wrong. He could feel the metaphysical coordinates he was locked on to shift. He wasn't entirely sure where to, but after a quick check, he just knew what, or rather who, the cause for the subtle change was.

Zelretch.

The flashing of lights that was the Kaleidoscope dimmed down, and he found himself in a forest. Well, it was less a forest and more a barren, frigid wasteland. The environmental control built into Panzer activated, and the armor that he now wore almost at all times heated up to warm him the armor didn't cover his head, he was forced to make do with some standard heat magecraft, although he dared not play with it too much. Using magecraft as a makeshift heater was the best way to get careless and accidentally cook himself, so he made sure to carefully monitor what little heat he used to warm himself.

He called up his mental link with Caster, and after explaining the situation asked her to scry his coordinates. A brief moment later, he learned that he was in the Northern part of Siberia. Sighing, he attempted to call up the Kaleidoscope, and wasn't surprised that he couldn't. Something was here that Zelretch wanted him to do or find, and the old bloodsucker wouldn't allow him to leave before he had done what his adoptive grandfather wanted. He peered out into the snow, attempting to deduce what he was here for. It was hard to see anything at all through the white.

Except for the red eyes that is. Those stood out rather clearly in the snow.

What he had originally taken for a large snow bank stood, revealing a wolf with fur the color of bleached bone. The wolf could have been the complete inverse of Midnight. The aura released by the wolf reminded him of Berserker, nothing but bloodlust. The wolf stalked over to him, until it loomed only a foot away, its breath steaming in the snow. A part of Harry told him to be very, _very_ careful at what he did now, as he had recognized the being in front of him, and while Gaia seemed to consider him her champion, he wasn't exactly sure the beast in front of him had gotten the memo. And he wasn't exactly tempted to see if Primate Murder, the Beast of Gaia, knew _not_ to eat him on sight.

As he stared into its red eyes, there was a flash of color in front of him.

He looked into his hands to find three items.

The first, a box of dog biscuits.

The second, a massive leash and collar, with the words, " _Primate Murder. If found, please return to Clock Tower, London. Ask for Zelretch, Harry, or Lorelei."_

The third, a book titled, "Dog Training for Dummies," and a sticky note in Zelretch's handwriting that read, " _Good Luck, Love Gramps and Gaia. :)_ "

The realization slowly dawned on him as he looked up at the massive beast.

 _The Beast of Gaia_ , he thought.

The massive wolf stared at him, drool dripping from its massive fangs as it salivated.

Wait, salivated?

He followed the wolf's gaze and realized that it was staring a hole through the box of dog biscuits he was holding. He moved the box slightly to the right and the massive head before him followed.

"Oh Root," he thought, his hand reflexively snapping to his face. The Beast of Gaia was nothing more than an oversized, eager _dog_?!

He projected a comfortable armchair and sat down in it. He opened the box and tossed one to the Beast of Gaia every once in a while, which it snapped up with gusto. When he ran out, he simply projected another box. With nothing better to do, he opened the book Zelretch had sent him, noting that several sections were bookmarked and highlighted.

This was going to be a loooooong day.

-Break-

Harry was wrong, it wasn't a long day. It was a long week. Even with an animal as intelligent as Prim, as he had started calling her after determining the wolf's gender, it still took a week to get her to understand the basics, like 'sit', 'stay', 'kill', 'don't kill'. The last one had taken some serious effort and several now-deceased Siberian natives, since it _was_ what she had been created for, so he supposed it took longer for her to understand that one. Prim had grown incredibly attached over the week, never leaving his side and wrapping herself around him like a blanket when he slept. A run-in with some rather unpleasant Siberian trappers had been an excellent opportunity to try out the 'kill' command. Poor bastards didn't stand a chance. There was a flash, and Prim didn't need to be fed that day. On a side note, he decided that the next time she wanted to lick him, he would have to wipe off her face first. Blood was a _nightmare_ to clean.

It had taken him about four hours into the training to realize that he could simply form a familiar contract with the beast. Most magi would have been dead long before getting near the wolf, but he suspected that his connection to Gaia had been the reason the wolf hadn't simply killed him on the spot several hours prior. He had placed his hands her head, and with a glowing light, he possessed the Beast of Gaia as a familiar. He idly wondered how the Magi at the Clock Tower would react to _that_ bit of knowledge, as he was aware that Zelretch had started a pool on the number of aneurysms news of his "exploits" would cause next. Still, after that, Prim seemed to understand much better, making the overall training much easier.

He discovered that the wolf was more like Midnight than he imagined when he tried out the 'stay' command and teleported to Moscow. When there wasn't any news footage over the next thirty minutes about a giant, white rampaging wolf in Moscow, he had teleported back, with a sigh of relief. He didn't know what he would have done if Primy hadn't understood, and set foot in Moscow despite his command. He didn't think the Clock Tower would have taken the news of the Beast of Gaia rampaging in the Russian capital very well.

When he arrived, Prim was still sitting there exactly where he had left her, looking at him expectantly, her tail waggling as soon as she spotted the biscuits in his hand, so for good measure he gave her a couple, before taking a few steps back.

"Alright, now come," he commanded. A white blur and he was pinned to the ground, being washed head to toe by an enthusiastic wolf that had missed him. Prim and Midnight would really get along, he mused.

As he looked at the wolf laying at his feet, her head resting on his lap as he read his book, a thought occurred to him. He concentrated for a moment, and when a black blur hit him instead of a white one, he was sure of his success. As he endured a second washing, he heard Prim let out a thundering bark and a growl of warning. He climbed out from under Midnight and placated Prim with a scratch behind the ears. A wet nose tapping his other arm to remind him who was his wolf first had him giving the same treatment to Midnight. A brief moment of concentration later, and the black wolf was his familiar as well.

Pretty soon, the two wolves got along like sisters, as fortunately both were female. He dreaded to think what would have happened if they had been able to reproduce together. Aside from playful competition for his affection, there was no conflict. A day later and Midnight was following the same commands as Prim, the process heavily simplified without difficulty of getting ideas like 'don't kill' in her brain and the familiar spell.

The two massive wolves sat next to each other, both looking pleased as he presented them with collars. Prim's was the one Zelretch had sent, Midnight's was an identical one with her name on it instead of Prim's. He was trying to envision how he would get back to the Clock Tower when the obvious answer occurred to him. The only other problem he could think of was their size. They might not be able navigate some of the hallways of the Clock Tower, what with both being roughly the size of rhinos.

This would be a perfect chance to try out those wizard spells!

He concentrated hard, directing as much prana into his hands as he could. To effect inherently magical beings like Direwolves, along with a Beast of Gaia, and since it was the first time he tried something like this, a _lot_ of prana was needed. Actually, the amount of energy he ended up using would have been enough to wipe Eurasia from the surface of the Earth had he released it as a burst or a destructive spell. Instead, he placed one hand each on his wolves, and intoned the spell he had learned from Tom's memories.

"Reducio."

Like air being deflated from a balloon, the two wolves slowly shrunk until they were only about torso height for him, the size of very large dogs. Both seemed to take the transformation in stride, as he grabbed them by their collars, more for show than anything, they obeyed him perfectly by this point, and called up the Kaleidoscope.

Access to it had been restored the day after he started training Prim, since he had understood the point of the exercise. Although he truly wondered what Zelretch hoped for when he had left him to train the wolves.

With a flash of color, they were in the main hall of the Clock Tower. Several nobles jumped in surprise at his sudden appearance. Ignoring them, he went up to Zelretch's apartment to give him a piece of his mind, Prim and Midnight obediently padding at his heels. Their presence did earn him some wary looks, as most familiars were smaller animals, and having two wolves with him in the corridors of the academic institution was bound to attract attention.

Ignoring the whispers, he made his way to Zelretch's quarters, a section of the Clock Tower most people avoided on principle, just in case the True Magician got bored and decided to prank a poor, unsuspecting passerby. Not bothering with knocking, he opened the door and entered, finding the old man sitting in an armchair sipping some tea.

"Ahh, Harry. How was your trip? Eventful, I'd imagine," grinned the aged Magus.

Harry put one arm on the wall, acting like he was leaning against it. The alchemic array on his left arm for deconstruction lit up, disassembling the chair under Zelretch and causing him to fall over, spilling tea all over himself.

"Next time you feel like dropping me in front of literally the deadliest being on the planet in an attempt to tame it, a heads-up would be nice," he growled. Sure, he hadn't truly been in danger since even _if_ he had died, he could have just reconstructed his body, but it was the intention that counted. One did _not_ put him in potentially dangerous situations without getting punished in return, especially if it ended worrying his loved ones.

"Well if I told you kiddo, it would've made a horrible early birthday surprise."

He just sighed. Only Zelretch would consider stranding him in Siberia with nothing but the Beast of Gaia for company a good birthday present. He was so not looking forward to his next birthdays. He wouldn't put it past the old man to strand him in an entirely female world during puberty if he thought Harry needed to "get laid", and he quite frankly dreaded to think what his deranged mind would come up with for Christmas.

"Well it worked, didn't it?" the old man defended himself, motioning towards the white wolf beside him, who was looking at the Wizard Marshal with a hungry gleam in her eyes as she let out a threatening growl at the human that had displeased her Master. Not wanting his new pet to eat his teacher and pseudo-grandfather, he started rubbing her behind the ears. Prim calmed down and happily leaned into his side, nearly knocking him over with her still immense weight.

"I see you also picked up another pet while you were at it," smiled the master of the Kaleidoscope, clearly aware of just who and what the black wolf next to him was. Then again, the voyeur might have spied on another universe just to see how things had gone.

"That I did. Made familiar bonds with both of them," he replied in the way of an explanation.

Familiar bonds with the Beast of Gaia and a wolf that was technically a figment of his imagination.

Why couldn't his life just make sense?

He blamed the old man sitting in front of him, still soaked in tea and giving him an insane smile like he'd read his thoughts exactly.

-Break-

Never let it be said that the Kaleidoscope was one that neglected his family. Once his grandson had left, a flash of the Second Magic had the room back exactly as it was. Taking a sip of his tea, he opened the book he had been reading on Wizarding laws regarding guardianship. He planned to remove the Dursley's guardianship of Harry and give it to Kiritsugu instead. While there was little they could have done to harm Harry with how he was now, he knew that his adopted grandson would be trying to refrain from killing them after only a few hours in the same world.

Finally, he found the section he was looking for. As the boy's physical guardians, as dictated by one "Headmaster Dumbledore", who had convinced Harry's parents to leave him with his Aunt and Uncle, they possessed the right to pass over guardianship to another if so desired. If the new guardian was a muggle, Dumbledore retained magical guardianship. However, should the new guardian be magical, both magical and physical guardianship were bestowed. He imagined that the Dursleys had never been informed of this legal clause, as Albus Dumbledore relied on their ignorance. After all, given how they wanted nothing to do with Harry, they would have tried dumping him with the first magic user they could find just to get rid of him if they had been made aware of this clause.

All he had to do was convince them to sign a piece of paper.

 _Shouldn't be too hard_ , he thought.

 _Not with Harry there at least._

-Break-

Harry stood in his apartment, with the Homunculi, Sakura, Illya, and the Servants. They were going to his home dimension to get the matter of his guardianship sorted out, and all the females present seemed strangely eager to meet his former, "lovely" guardians. The trip also doubled as a sight-seeing tour. Sakura and Illya had been found capable of Wizard magic, so they fully intended to go to this "Hogwarts" school with Harry, although he wasn't sure how the wizards would react to them basically demanding to sleep in the same bed as him. With how backwards their society was, they were likely to make a fuss over it over some stupid sense of propriety. He really didn't see what the problem was, truth be told. He was still too young to feel interested in _those_ kind of activities, and even if he had been old enough for them, well he hardly thought it was others' business to butt in such matters.

Extensive research into the two magical systems had shown some interesting conclusions. A wizard's magical core operated essentially as a single, massive circuit. Unfortunately, they were incapable of channeling the prana they generated through their bodies, so they improvised with wands. Thanks to this, they possessed large amounts of prana, but couldn't really make much use of it. It was like trying to drain a bathtub with a drinking straw. A magus with large a large amounts of circuits by comparison was like a fire-hose hooked up to a hydrant. They had to be really good judges of how much pressure they were tapping, or things went bad very quickly.

Due to the limited amount of prana available to them, the Wizards had surprisingly made a jury-rigged system based off Caster's Divine Words. It was why so many of their spells were based in Latin, and why they had to be so specific with what words they used while a Magus could do incantations in any language they wished, with whatever words they wanted. However, this also severely limited them to the constraints of the system. Because of their greater control over their magic, any magus could perform wizard magic, but not vice versa.

After several quiet minutes of waiting, Zelretch strolled in with Kiritsugu in tow. Both were wearing suits and ties, apparently prepared for legal negotiations, although he wouldn't have put it past the old man to wear a clown's outfit, just for the laughs. Harry himself was dressed in a white dress shirt and slacks. Illya wore her white and purple skirt, along with a white hat as it was getting told. As apparently, possessing red eyes bore some silly superstitions in the Wizarding world, Zelretch, Illya, and the Homunculi had all used a color changing charm Harry had learned to turn their eyes various colors. The Homunculi had landed on purple, while Zelretch and Illya went with blue.

Sakura was wearing a purple dress, with a red bow tied in her hair. She had insisted on coming on this little trip with him, and Illya had jumped on the bandwagon. Knowing that six Servants and the Homunculi would be enough to keep them safe, he had reluctantly conceded, aware that it was futile to argue with them when they were set on something.

Zelretch called them all together into a large circle. Harry would have done it, but he still lacked finesse with the Kaleidoscope, and they hardly wanted to land in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. He could transport himself and limited numbers of objects just fine, but large groups proved trouble, as they tended to throw off his coordinates. It was better to leave these things to the professionals, even if said professionals were arguably insane.

One moment later had the large group standing in dirty alleyway. The Servants immediately astralized and took up defensive positions around them. Harry made sure to tone down Berserker's aura. It was useful for clearing crowds, but not for subtlety. It was the same reason he didn't bring Prim with him. The Beast of Gaia hadn't received enough training to not send the entire city running. Instead, he had removed the reduction charms on her and Midnight, and left them to run free in the Einzbern forest. They would provide extra security for the castle, and since the homunculi maids weren't really human, Prim wouldn't go trying to kill them either.

Zelretch led the way, apparently having already mapped out the route beforehand. He led them to a seedy looking tavern called "The Leaky Cauldron." Inside wasn't much better. It was like he stepped out of modern London and into a tenth century bar. It was dirty, smoke filled the air, and it smelled like burnt food, making them wonder why these people had magic if they didn't even use it to keep things clean.

They passed through without incident, with the exception of the barman, who gave them a curious look, and most of the male wizards in there who were giving Leanna, Monica, and Joy slightly lecherous stares. Maids were a very rare thing in the wizarding world, as anyone who could afford one could also afford a house elf, who were much harder working and didn't require salary. Because of this, the low cut French maid uniforms the homunculi wore along with their stunning, exotic features made them just about the most attractive women most wizards had seen.

In the back room of the bar was a worn down brick wall. Zelretch whispered some instructions in his ear and Harry stepped up to it. He removed his glove, revealing the silver metal of Panzer covering his hand. He tapped the center brick, the two above it, and then two across from it. The wall shifted, opening into a quaint little shopping district. As the wall receded, he could just picture a group of Clock Tower nobles throwing a fit at such a frivolous waste of magecraft when a simple door could have sufficed. It was the same as using the Kaleidoscope to transport himself to another room because it was more impressive to appear out of thin air instead of opening a door. Bloody idiots.

The group made their way through Diagon Alley, ignoring the looks some of the more curious wizards and witches were shooting at them, primarily the maids, although a fair few witches were glaring at them and muttering about "proper clothing". They arrived at the steps of an ornate bank. As they walked up the stairs, he could feel his Servants and the Homunculi tense at the sight of the armed guards flanking the doors. The guards themselves were something as well. Goblins, they apparently were. Ugly little things. Right as they reached the threshold, the guards crossed their weapons, blocking their path, making the Servants ready themselves for a fight. Granted, even if they were magical creatures, even the Goblins would be hard-pressed to fight against a group of Servants, but still.

One of the goblins, some sort of officer judging by the ornaments on his armor, scrutinized them. His eyes were staring at where the Servants were, as if he could tell that something was there, but not what. A decidedly magically sensitive race, if they could detect the prana of an astralized Servant. The guard seemed to make up his mind, and stepped back into line. The guards uncrossed their weapons and the group went in. Zelretch approached one of the open tellers.

" _Pardon me, Master Broadfang_ ," he read the name plaque in Gobbledygook on the goblin's desk, perks of being a True Magician, " _A moment of your time_."

The goblin nearly fell off his chair at being addressed by name in his native language. He inspected the group before him. Two men were there, dressed in muggle suits, one being old and clearly off balanced while the other had the look of a veteran warrior, looking around, surveying exits and the like. In the back were three incredibly attractive women in maid uniforms. Goblins held a very different view of beauty than humans, but these were undeniably some of the most attractive women to enter Gringotts. Between the men and the maids were three children.

In the center was a youth wearing glasses with a small purple fringe in his ebony hair, tastefully dressed and wearing gloves. On his left, holding his hand was a girl in a purple dress, with matching purple hair. An uncontrolled metamorphmagus perhaps? Or a girl whose parents had caved to her demands for a more "exotic" hair color? Holding the boy's right hand was a young girl in a white and purple outfit, looking up at him innocently. He wasn't fooled though. All three of these children had steel in them, he could see it in their eyes. The maids as well had some form of combat training, from the expert defensive formation they were casually making around the children. It was quite refreshing to see people who actually knew what they were doing, instead of the stuffy, arrogant fools they had to cater to most of the time.

He looked back at the old man that had addressed him and gave him a respectful nod.

"What can Gringotts help you today, sir?" he asked, significantly politer than he usually was. This group intrigued him, and at the very least they had had the courtesy of using his native language and name to address him, therefore he would return the courtesy, so long as they proved themselves to respect the rules of Gringotts.

"I was wondering whom I might speak to regarding the matter of acquiring an adoption form? I understand that due to your specialty in inheritance magic, this bank handled that sort of thing."

"Ahh, yes. You'll want to speak with Master Stoneblood for that. He is the head of that department," the goblin said, motioning over an apprentice to act as a guide.

"This one will show you the way."

The apprentice motioned them to follow, and led them through a labyrinth of corridors until they arrived at a large ornate door. He rapped on it three times, waited a respectful moment, and then opened the door. They entered a large, but rather spartan in its decoration, office. Sitting behind a desk was an old goblin, with a few white hairs sticking to his otherwise bald scalp. The apprentice ushered them in, then closed the doors behind them.

" _Master Stoneblood, I presume_?" inquired Zelretch in Gobbledygook. If the goblin was surprised, he didn't show it.

"I am. What do you require?" he demanded in a stern voice, not even looking up from his paperwork.

"I would like to arrange an adoption between two consenting guardians. I understand your office handles that."

The goblin wrenched open a drawer and removed a small stack of parchment and several quills.

"Sign the child's, the current guardians', and the future guardians' names in the indicated sections. Leave the papers with a teller when you have them filled out and signed by both parties. The adoption will be processed as soon as the signatures are considered valid. Good day, and may your gold flow forevermore."

With that, the goblin returned his attention back to his work.

-Break-

Number 4 Privet Drive was not a place Harry had fond memories of. As he looked back on it, he started remembering the beatings, the starvation, the torture. Apparently, he had given some indication of his distress, because Sakura gave his hand a comforting squeeze and Monica laid a hand on his shoulder. He gave them an appreciative nod as they walked up to the house. Zelretch was once again leading, holding a binder containing the legal forms, already filled out with the exception of the signatures, and several pens.

They reached the front yard, pausing for a moment. Once they were all ready, they marched up to the door. Zelretch rang the bell and they waited. Several moments passed before the door opened to reveal a pudgy ten-year-old. He gave them a look over before turning and yelling over his shoulder.

"Mum! There's some weird people here!"

Petunia Dursley, a woman who resembled a horse more than a woman, came to the door, wiping her hands on an apron. She gave them a sour look, as if they had committed some great faux pas by knocking on her door. Then again, if Harry remembered right, she prided herself on being "normal", so strange people coming to knock on her door in broad daylight was definitively something she wouldn't appreciate.

"Alright, Duddykins, why don't you go into the kitchen and get yourself some biscuits? I'll talk with these people," she said, ushering the obese child away. She returned, looking at them expectantly.

"Well," she demanded, "What do you want?"

"If it's not too much of a bother, ma'am, I have some legal matters regarding your nephew, Harry, that I need to discuss with you. Is your husband home?"

At the mention of Harry, Petunia's face turned into a hateful scowl.

"I don't see what you could possibly be here about. The boy is gone. Ran away some five years ago and we haven't heard from him since. Good riddance to bad rubbish I say."

"That's why we're here, ma'am. We've recovered your nephew, and would like to arrange his adoption into another family. We have found a loving father willing to take him in. We just need you to sign some forms."

Petunia gave them a suspicious look, before cautiously stepping aside and permitting them into the house. The house was almost sickeningly neat. Everything looked like it had been bought as a perfect set. Every room looked like it had been purchased whole from an Ikea showroom. There was not a single speck of dirt anywhere, as if the occupants of the house spent every available scouring the remote recesses of it for dirt to purge. There was no character, no personality.

Harry's aunt ushered them into the kitchen, where Dudley was occupied with stuffing himself on an entire tray of cookies, along with a gallon of milk straight from the jug. She motioned them towards the kitchen table, where Zelretch and Kiritsugu took a seat. Petunia called Vernon down from upstairs, and he grudgingly came down. The man was even worse than his son. He looked like a walrus had been crammed into a cheap suit. The two had a brief, whispered conversation, apparently explaining the situation. After some rude insults towards the guests that they apparently thought they wouldn't hear, he and his wife sat down across the table. Zelretch removed the forms from his binder, explained that they would lose all parental rights and responsibilities for Harry once they were signed. Vernon nearly lunged for the pen, scribbling his name down as fast as he could.

The second he lifted his pen from the paper, Vernon screamed. His signature was carved in the back of his hand.

"Oh, I probably should have mentioned. You just signed with a blood pen. That signature will scar, but that shouldn't matter too much. Harry," he said, turning to him, " Was there anything you wanted to tell your aunt and uncle?"

The Dursleys' eyes all went wide as they put two and two together, realizing that the strong, aristocratic child before them was the weak, scarecrow thin boy that had disappeared all those years ago. And that the stony glare he was giving them promised retribution for their treatment.

"No, but I believe some others here do."

At his words, six people materialized out of thin air as the two female children and the maids drew their weapons and lunged at the Dursley adults, Dudley having already been knocked out by Kiritsugu. Police would later respond to a 999 call reporting screams coming from the house. They would arrive to find the two owners of the house nearly beaten to death, with the son in a nearly catatonic state. Upon waking in the hospital, the Dursleys found that they had no recollection of the events prior to the attack. From that day on though, Dudley had an unexplained irrational fear of people in maid uniforms, little girls, and women in general.

Harry was going to kill the Dursleys at some point, but not today. That beating wasn't the extent of their pain. He was just getting started. He was going to draw it out, enjoy it, savor it.

Root, by the time he was done with them, they might just kill _themselves_.

-Break-

Harry sat in the Leaky Cauldron, reading a newspaper. In honor his upcoming birthday and enrollment at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Daily Prophet was doing an expose on the live of the "Boy-Who-Lived", Orion Potter. The newspaper contained the whole story, how the Dark Lord attempted to kill James and Lily Potter, sneaking into their house in the night. It talked about how He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named restrained the two parents, intent on making them watch their children's demise. Supposedly, the Dark Lord then cast the infallible Killing Curse on Orion, who somehow reflected it, killing the Dark Lord.

He said supposedly because he had Voldemort's memories of the incident. He had rendered the parents unconscious, when an idea occurred to him. A particularly evil plan. If he made an innocent child a horcrux, the child of his staunchest supporters at that, Dumbledore would never be able to bring himself to destroy it. He initiated the process, but something went _wrong_ with the it. He had never performed the ritual on a living being before, so he wasn't entirely sure what happened. Next thing he knew, he was being blown across the room by the backlash, which caused two scars on the child in the crib adjacent to the one he'd been using. The scars on the child's forehead were two long, parallel lines, only a centimeter or so apart.

He impacted the wall, and that was the last thing he knew.

Zelretch next to him filled him in on the rest of the story. Apparently, the parents had awoken to find the Dark Lord dead and Orion crying. Harry had been rendered unconscious by the horcrux process. They had called Dumbledore, who had arrived and surveyed the scene. Looking at the scars on Orion's forehead, he had declared that they were the symbol for equality, an = sign. This was the Dark Lord declaring Orion his equal. He had then gone over to the sleeping Harry, touching the scar on his forehead and jerking back at realizing what foul magic it was.

Dumbledore had reached a conclusion then. This child would need to be kept from Orion, so that the Chosen of the Light would not be corrupted. It had apparently not occurred to him that with the proper instruction, Harry might very well have developed into a stable child, able to block the Horcrux's influence. That, or he simply didn't want to take risks, and decided that the "Savior" couldn't be allowed to be put in close proximity with someone that might be influenced to kill him.

He had sat the Potters down and explained what needed to be done. He told them that their son Harry was stricken with a taint that would corrupt his soul and morality. Orion Potter would usher the world into the light, but as he was marked as the Dark Lord's equal, he also was at risk of straying to the dark. He explained that Harry needed to be taken away and raised separately, and that Orion needed to be showered in love so that he would feel no ill-will towards the wizarding world. He claimed that he knew of a family that would take Harry in and raise him, but that for security they were not to know where it was. The Potters reluctantly agreed, handing over Harry to Dumbledore, who whisked him away.

The Potters ended up perfectly happy, raising the hero of the wizarding world. They ended up having another child, a daughter named Ivy, who was the spitting image of her mother, and a year younger than Harry. They had spoiled Orion rotten, allowing him to bask in the fame and glory of his position, and only stepping in when he clearly stepped out of line, and even then, only sometimes. Appearance-wise, the only difference between Harry and Orion as babies was that Orion had James' eyes while Harry had Lily's. Now, they were practically polar opposites. From what Zelretch told him, Orion wasn't going to be the savior of the Wizarding World anytime soon, mostly due to the fact that he was used to get anything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter.

Zelretch continued the tale, explaining that after removing him from the Potters, Dumbledore actually had no idea whether the horcrux would influence Harry's personality or not, nor who should raise him. He had thought back to young Tom Riddle, and his journey into darkness. Permitting that to happen remained his single greatest regret in his very long life, so he was decided not to repeat his mistake. Guilt wracked him every day, every time he heard of the atrocities committed by the Death Eaters. What was worse, he didn't actually know if he could have helped the young Dark Lord. It was the ancient "Nature vs Nurture" argument. Are people born evil, or do they have evil thrust upon them?

As he looked at the young child in his arms, an idea had popped into his brilliant head. He would be able to prove it. He could prove once and for all that there was nothing that could be done about young Tom Riddle. He would place the child in a bad situation, as identical as he could to Tom's, ensuring that he grew up unhappy. Then, once the boy got to Hogwarts, he would do everything possible to turn the boy to the light. If the boy turned good, he was wrong, and Tom's turn was his fault. If the boy turned evil, he was right, and there was nothing he could have done. The boy was going to be dark anyway, so why not try to turn him to the light, and prove a point while he was at it?

Now, he just needed a suitable family to place the boy in.

Hadn't Lily once complained about her recently married sister, who despised magic? Petunia, wasn't it?

She would do.

-Break-

Harry laid in his bed at the Einzbern castle with the girls. It had been a rather... _satisfying_ day. He'd been permanently removed from the Dursleys' clutches, legally at that, had begun his campaign of revenge against them, and ensured that the Servants would be able to come to Hogwarts. From Zelretch's descriptions of Dumbledore, he wouldn't have put it past the man to hold the ability for his Servants to come to Hogwarts as some sort of leverage once he learnt of what they could do, that is if he didn't claim that they were "Dark" and tried to have them sent back to the Throne of Heroes. To counter that, he exploited a loophole he had found while reading "Hogwarts: A History". " _The sacred bond between Master and Familiar is one of the most revered of relationships in the Wizarding World. That is why Section C, Paragraph 4 of the Hogwarts Charter declared that no wizard or witch shall be denied the right to bring a familiar to Hogwarts, provided that Gringotts has confirmed the existence of the bond."_ He had then looked up the definition of a wizard familiar, which was defined as any being, mundane or magical, that shared a wizard's magical signature.

He'd had the goblins at Gringotts perform the test on him, with an inheritance one while he was at it. The first test had confirmed that twelve intelligent beings shared a familiar bond with him, unheard of for a wizard, as only near-sentient beings at best had bonded with magic users, sentient beings such as Veela more often than not taking steps to ensure that they couldn't be bonded as familiars. Who knew how much wizards would have tried to kidnap their kind had such a thing been possible?

He knew that all of the Servants, plus the wolves made eleven, but he couldn't figure out the twelfth until he absently picked at his glove and remembered Panzer, which he had created and bore an empathic bond with. He was just glad that the Einzbern homunculi didn't show up on that list, or things might have gotten weird. Twelve sentient beings bonded to him was already going to be a pain to explain once it was known, and he held no illusion that it would eventually happen, so he didn't need to have people claiming he was running around forcefully bonding people to him, which was bound to happen if the Homunculi had all bonded with him.

The goblins had filed the necessary paperwork to ensure that Dumbledore couldn't pull anything to have his Servants removed. Fortunately, the paperwork, while available to anyone within the Ministry, only detailed the number of bonds, and that the beings were all sentient and humanoid. The goblins had much more accurate files, but they also notoriously hated wizards, while Harry seemed to have gained a small degree of respect from them with his refined, but humble aristocratic manner and no-nonsense attitude when doing negotiations. Any attempts to retrieve the full files from the goblins would be met with an army of tiny, green lawyers and armed guards.

He had been rather surprised upon receiving his inheritance test. Somehow, he had been made heir of both House Slytherin and House Ravenclaw, which while welcome, made little sense to him. He asked the goblin who brought the results, but he was equally confused. It wasn't until an older goblin brought out Salazar Slytherin's will that things were explained. Apparently, as a proponent of wizarding tradition and power, one of Salazar's biggest fears was Line Theft. As such, he wrote a clause into his will that should the line die out, and a false claimant appeared, whomever slew the false claimant would become the new Lord Slytherin and be able to continue the line. Apparently, Voldemort was not related to Salazar, or at least too distantly to be considered his true heir, because the ancient magic enforcing the will had activated upon his defeat, making his killer, Harry, the new Lord Slytherin.

The Ravenclaw business had been explained by tracing the line tree back a couple dozen generations. At some point, the houses of Slytherin and Ravenclaw had been merged, but the heir of Slytherin at the time hadn't realized, lacking the cunning of his ancestors. When the Lord title was passed down to Harry, all attached Lordships came with it, making him heir to both houses. It was rather confusing, even for someone as analytical as him, but nobody ever said that wizards didn't know how to over-complicate things. What he had understood was basically that due to some administrative mumbo-jumbo he was the heir to two highly respected Houses, so he wasn't about to complain.

At the moment, his lordships weren't of much value, but he could elect regents to represent him on the Wizengamot. As two of the four oldest families in Britain, they were given enough votes to form their own majority block in the voting process. If necessary, he could swing vote anything that came before the Wizengamot, completely anonymously. Zelretch took about five minutes to stop laughing when he found out, cackling about the chaos he would be able to create with his votes if he decided to. That man enjoyed messing people far more than was reasonable, and in case of people as inept and pigheaded than wizard Lords, it was made all the sweeter by their total lack of understanding of just _who_ they would be facing.

He yawned, as he felt Sakura snuggle up next to him, mumbling in her sleep. He was the only one still awake, with the exception of Assassin, whom he still couldn't figure out if she slept at all. The black haired Servant had been rather displeased with his frequent stays abroad, and compensated by firmly attaching herself to either him or his shadow whenever he returned. She followed him nearly everywhere, and even somehow dialed up her usual antics. The only place she didn't follow him was the bath, opting to wait outside instead at his insistence, and even then, he was fairly certain that she astralized and activated her presence concealment before slipping in unnoticed after the door was shut. His other Servants had been similar in their displeasure at his training trips, but to a lesser degree of clinginess.

His eleventh birthday was in a week, and he was expecting his, Sakura's, and Illya's Hogwarts letters any day now. After adopting him, Kiritsugu had ensured that Sakura and Illya were also adopted under him, significantly simplified by the fact that there were no guardians to contest it. As such, they were now on the Hogwarts roster as students in the same year.

Normally, the whole "other dimension" thing would make receiving mail an issue, but Harry warded a dropbox at Gringotts to receive all mail addressed to him or anyone else in his family and filter it. Any mail he would want to read was sent through a Kaleidoscopic link to wherever he was. Zelretch had been really proud of him for setting that one up.

Deciding that whatever else was going on could wait until morning, he closed him eyes and entered the realm or Morpheus.

-Break-

A week later, the day of Harry's eleventh birthday, he woke up in the most comforting position known to man: embraced by his lovers. Birthdays had never really been a major ordeal under Zouken. Whenever their birthday came by, he and Sakura would bake a small cake and spend the day in each other's company. Once the Homunculi were created, they became a part of the process as well. Apparently, the girls were determined to make his first birthday with them special, as the second they realized he was awake, he was stormed by a shower of "Happy Birthday" kisses.

Thoroughly disoriented, but happy all the same, he was dragged out of bed in his pajamas by the excited girls and into the main hall of the castle. A blindfold was slipped over his eyes during the process and all he could hear around him were various feminine giggles. Finally, he was brought to a halt, and the blindfold removed from his face.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY MASTER!" came a deafening chorus.

He blinked, orienting himself to the light. His eyes came into focus to show the entire maid staff of the castle proudly standing before a massive handmade banner that read, "Happy Birthday Master! Love, your humble Servants, The Maid Staff," in addition to a cake that nearly reached the ceiling, certainly enough for everybody there.

He gave them an odd look, causing some of the maids to grow concerned that they had overstepped their bounds, before a massive smile broke out over his face, tears of joy forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Thank you all. This means a lot to me, doing something like this. Thank you, I mean it."

A lot of the maids cooed at how adorable he was acting, and all of them looked relieved that they hadn't overstepped their bounds. While they were growing more comfortable with their new leadership, they still had trouble with adjusting, as Harry had very different views on what they could and couldn't do from their previous owners.

He turned to the rest of the girls, seeing their satisfied smiles and realizing that this had been a collaborative effort.

"Thank you all as well. Let's make this the best birthday party we've ever had!"

What ensued was perhaps the liveliest event to ever occur within the noble halls of the Einzbern castle, a party that would have made the Einzberns roll in their graves had it been possible. Cake was cut up and passed around to everyone, a process he had to utilize his alchemy to speed up,as cutting cake for over a thousand people was not something done quickly. Saber and Berserker had gotten into a cake eating contest, demolishing almost two cubic meters of cake. Saber had looked rather smug after her victory.

After cake, presents were passed around. Sakura had gotten him a small, heart shaped locket containing a picture of herself, Illya, Kiritsugu, Zelretch, and all of the Servants posing happily.

Illya had given him a cook book as a joke, which got a good laugh out of everybody. Although with the way she kept glancing hopefully at him, he had an inkling that she wouldn't mind some of his homemade dishes again.

Kiritsugu had given him one of his Origin bullets. With Denial of Nothingness, he'd be able to replicate it, possibly even modify its properties with time.

Lorelei had sent a package containing an old key and a letter stating that she was giving him free access to the Barthomeloi family library, quite possibly one of the most intimate gestures a traditional magus could make.

Bazett and Kuzuki had sent him a book on various MMA styles and a note to read up, or they would, "Kick his lily-white arse next time we see him."

Zelretch gave him a signed copy of the Kama Sutra with a conspiratorial wink. This did not earn him popularity points from the blushing and embarrassed women surrounding him, and the old Magus had run away, laughing like a maniac, when his Servants had tried to express their displeasure at how inappropriate the present was. In fact, by the time he had gone back to his presents, the book had suspiciously disappeared, probably hidden by one of his more conservative Servants, or, the unfortunately possibilty, borrowed by Assassin.

Leanna, Monica, and Joy had banded together, creating a fluid that would allow Panzer to look and appear like flesh when seen and touched, so that he could wear it at all times and not have to conceal it so much. Upon touching the fluid, the liquid mithril absorbed it, changing and matching his flesh tone. An experimental poke revealed that it now felt perfectly like skin. He was rather impressed.

Archer had taken him outside and shown him some of the more dangerous weapons encountered during his career as a Counter Guardian so Harry could replicate them.

Berserker had made a rather considerate offer to kill Kiritsugu, roaring and swinging his rock-like blade at the former Magus Killer, which he politely declined, earning himself a grateful nod from the man.

Saber had apparently worked some shifts at a maid cafe and bought him a top-of-the-line pressure cooker, accompanied by a blushing request to make frequent use of it.

Assassin had given him a photo album containing rather... explicit and candid photos of herself along with a whispered promise of a much better present that night. He would apparently have to utilize Saber as a shield against the amorous Assassin again.

Caster gave him a binder containing her personal notes on bounded fields, a subject she was a master of.

Finally, Rider presented him with a large framed photo of himself and everybody else standing in front of the Einzbern castle, enchanted with a wizarding spell to make it move. He wasn't sure how she got the picture, as he didn't recall posing for it, but he suspected Zelretch.

He spent the rest of the day talking with the countless maids there, joking around with his family, playing around with Prim and Midnight, and just generally having a great time.

Right as the day was dying down, three letters popped out of existence in front of Harry. Each addressed to the same location.

 _Harry James Potter_

 _Gringotts Wizarding Bank Dropbox #44567_

He opened up the letter, and the first lines ensured him that a new adventure was beginning.

 _You have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._


	12. Chapter 12: Hello Wizards

**Welcome back! Heads up everyone, my beta Arawn is taking a business trip to India, which limits the time he has to beta this. Chapter updates might slow down until he's back in mid March. Apologies. Anyway, I'm glad that most of you were pleased with last chapter. I was kind of iffy on it, so I'm glad it got a good response.**

 **I feel I should clarify a point as there was some confusion in the reviews.** **This is not an "Evil Dumbledore" fic.** **Aye, Dumbledore pulled a massive dick move with Harry, but it was under the pretense that Harry was doomed to grow up a dark wizard anyway. He basically figured that since the kid was going to show up to Hogwarts evil anyway, he might as well obtain some information that could prevent similar evil people from rising up in the future. The Potters are not evil either. They are reasonable people with flaws.**

 **Also,** **someone in a review and another in a PM suggested that I should get someone to make a "character reading" of this story. If this interests you in any way, send me a PM.**

 **To clear up some other confusions, let me get down who I'm generally referring when I talk about the "Servants". When I say that, I generally mean both the maids and the spirits. From now on, when referring to the heroic spirits, I'll say spirits, and homunculi or maids for Leanna, Monica, and Joy. When I say Servants, I mean both.**

 **Now, reviews**

 **Im a guest: I meant to add a note about it last chapter, but I forgot. In this AU, Altrouge never tamed Prim. I mean, who would honestly be suicidal enough to try that?**

 **camdawg: Humorous idea. Harry is generally going to keep the Spirits under wraps at Hogwarts though.**

 **kilroy225: It generally only takes a couple of days for me to write up a chapter, and a couple more for Arawn to beta it. I don't have a schedule, but I try to aim for at least 1 a week**

 **Edelhart: Nobody from Potterverse will be included in the harem I don't think. Won't be giving Voldemort magical steroids or anything either. No full on or tactless bashing either. Harry will bear a serious grudge against his parents and Dumbledore, but within the constraints of his character.**

 **PhaseHand: That might still happen, just not with groupies. I'm fine with carrying on a conversation like this. Alternatively, you can PM me and I can write any relevant questions in these AU's**

 **William Thunderion: I agree. Fate's Gamble was the fic that got me into this crossover section, so I take a lot of points from it. I try to branch out as much as I can though.**

 **Thundramon: If you can think of a feminine word that means "armor", PM it to me. Still unsure about Lancer. I liked him in canon, also thought him getting killed would be a good demo on how powerful Harry is with the Servants. Harry already has two intelligent, immortal familiars in Prim and Midnight. Checked out that fic and was very impressed. Drawing some ideas from it, so thanks for the recommendation. Dumbledore thinks that the big battle with Voldemort isn't going to happen until Orion is in his twenties, meaning that he will be able to see how dark Harry is and if its possible to non-fatally purge the horcrux from him before that battle happens. Not to mention as he doesn't think Harry to be part of the prophecy, there is nothing saying that Harry has to die to have the horcrux removed. Fawkes is bound to Dumbledore and reliant on him for survival, so instead of leaving, he desperately tries to steer the man away from his more manipulative tendencies. Dumbledore isn't evil in this fic. See the underlined portion above. Aye, a top auror could probably stand even with a Clock Tower Research with a decent Mystic Code. Enforcers would kick their asses though.**

 **Heika: Lorelei isn't in the harem because of her pride, yes. Christian women believe in God, but not all of them are nuns and married to him, get it? The head of a magus clan is passed down like a lordship, given to the eldest son, or in the absence of one, an appointed individual. Illya is ineligible due to her status as a homunculus. Harry is paying the homunculi generously because A: It engenders high degrees of personal loyalty, and B: He is just a kind person most of the time. He could pay them much less, or nothing at all, but he doesn't. Yes, ingrained and implanted loyalty doesn't simply go away like Harry thinks it will. He'll learn that the hard way. The reason they did something as bold as the party was because the Servants, Sakura, and Illya came to them with the idea, and they wanted to do something nice for him. Assassin's stats are heavily boosted due to Harry summoning her. She possessed C-Rank Charisma in life, but it got boosted to A by her summoning. Harry doesn't really need to worry about money at this point. Panzer doesn't cover his face because gleaming silver encasing his head would be pretty obvious. Instead, it's reactive, but now with the skin pigment added, he can make it move over his head permanently. Zelretch is running the pool with some of his alternatives and most of the DAA. The alchemical array works on pretty much the same principle. Wandless magic for wizards is kind of like in the early episode of FSN when Shirou was operating on one circuit. Prana was moving, but not enough to actually do anything. Muggles can't find the Leaky Cauldron. It's layered with Notice Me Not's. Dudley didn't drink the entire thing, just drank from a gallon jug. Divine Words don't work in modern Nasuverse, with the exception of Caster, who is a remnant of the Age of the Gods. They relied on the power of the gods, which the wizards managed to harness in Potterverse and release as raw, unbound magic to be shaped by wands and words. It's how things like transfiguration sustain themselves without drawing additionally on the wizard.**

 **EternalKnight219: Sorry man. Harry would terrify most of Hufflepuff and lacks the temperament. Gryffindor would push the "golden boy" image too much, and he doesn't have the Gryffindor idea of "honor". He could do Ravenclaw, but Harry values knowledge for the power it gives, not the information itself. Harry fears powerlessness above all else. Slytherin really does fit him the best.**

 **Guest: Assassin always did hold something of a grudge against Hassan.**

 **EternityDragon2610: That scene was less bashing and more Harry being influenced by Mainyu and overreacting. I don't like Rin personally. Harry's justification is that she is a bit of a bitch, and Sakura absolutely despises her. Since Sakura is one of the most important things in his life, he shares her opinion.**

Chapter 12: Hello Wizards!

As young Harry Emiya was celebrating his birthday with his loved ones, far away in another universe, another black haired youth was celebrating his own birthday.

"Happy Birthday, my little savior!" said Lily Potter as she set a large chocolate cake in front of the rather overweight boy at the table. He wasn't Dudley levels of fat, Root no, but were he to be taken to a pediatrician, they would immediately recommend a strict diet, as while not overly large, he was well on his way to being obese despite his young age, and despite his magic doing its' best to keep him healthy.

Other than his weight, the boy didn't really share many physical similarities with the Dursley child. He had messy black hair cut just above his eyes, just like his father, though he usually kept the bangs parted so that people could see his equal sign scar, to make sure he was recognized on sight. He wore round glasses on his pudgy face, covering his brown eyes, once again just like his father. In the end, had he not been so overweight, he would have looked like a younger James Potter, and even now, there were still more than a few similarities between them.

He was currently absorbed with blowing out the candles on the cake, and then taking a massive piece for himself. The rest of the cake was decided between his mother, father, and little sister; who was sitting across the table, idly picking at her cake.

"Mum, when are we going to meet Harry?" she asked, as her mother sat down across from her father. She had been dying of curiosity for a while now, as while her parents did take care of her, she would have liked to have an older sibling that actually paid attention to her.

"We already told you this Ivy," Lily explained patiently, "Harry is about to undergo a big change in his life with finding out that we're his parents. I don't know what wizarding family Dumbledore put him with, but I'd imagine that he'd like to spend one last birthday with them before all of this comes out and his life gets turned upside-down. We'll pick him up tomorrow morning and take him with us to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies."

Ivy looked aggrieved, but nodded her head. Due to her own... less than stellar brother Orion, she had long fantasized on the idea of her other brother, the one who had to go away. When she was younger, she used to leave an empty seat when playing Tea Party and pretend that he was sitting there with her, playing with her and just generally being the perfect big brother. She was aware that he might not be exactly like she expected him to be, but she doubted that he would be as bad as Orion anyway.

James on the other hand was also quiet, but for different reasons. Dumbledore had long warned them that during Voldemort's attack on their home, Harry had been tainted with a very dark and difficult to remove magic. He said that the magic would taint his soul, giving him a predisposition towards the darker end of magic. The old wizard feared that growing up as the unknown brother of The-Boy-Who-Lived would cause resentment to well up in the boy, further driving him away from the light. It was for these reasons that they had reluctantly agreed to turn their oldest son over to Dumbledore, and signed forms transferring his guardianship to Dumbledore, who transferred it to his new guardians.

The Potter patriarch just hoped whatever upbringing his trusted mentor had arranged would stamp out whatever evil was building up in his other son. What was even worse was that Dumbledore had sworn him and Lily to secrecy on the matter, leading to a rift growing between him and the rest of the Marauders. Sirius and Remus hadn't understood how he could simply _disregard_ one son in favor of another, and then go on to have a daughter while still leaving a son in the hands of strangers. And he couldn't really well have told them anyway, as Sirius, while from a Dark family but working for the Light, still put family before all else, and would likely have suggested to keep an eye on Harry in case of him going Dark, but to keep him. And Remus, being a werewolf, had strong pack instincts, meaning that he would never agree to what he had done anyway.

Pettigrew's opinion didn't really matter considering his betrayal and imprisonment.

He mentally winced as he recalled when Molly Weasley had heard of Harry's fate, and responded by sending him a howler that _still_ had his ears ringing whenever he thought of it. He was still at least civilized with his best friends from school, but something in their relationship had been lost, unable to be mended until Harry was recovered and deemed unharmed. Molly wasn't even on civilized terms anymore, instead choosing to deliberately shun and ignore him for what she saw as a betrayal of family. He prayed to every divine being that could hear him that his son was simply a normal, ten year old wizard. Preferably a Quidditch fanatic, but that was purely optional.

Lily Potter was humming a happy tune in her head as she set up breakfast for her little boy's birthday. It deeply saddened her that her other son wasn't here for this occasion, as it had saddened her for every prior birthday, but it was to be short lived. She would see him the very next morning, and bring him back into the fold of her loving family. She could just see him now, the same green eyed, black haired boy she had always envisioned. He'd be just as sweet and mischievous as Orion, and the two would get along like the brothers they had always been meant to be. She'd let her husband and Dumbledore talk her into parting from her son for his safety all those years ago, but the second she had him back, she'd never let him go again.

Orion was fuming as he dug into his cake. He could see that his entire family was absorbed with thought of his brother. It was _his_ birthday; Harry wasn't even here! Instead his mother and sister were daydreaming and his father was distracting himself with the Daily Prophet. He did notice with pride that the entire front page of the newspaper was devoted to a multi-page article about himself, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why anyone cared about his twin brother. All the useless sod had ever done was be in the same room while he vanquished The Dark Lord. He was just glad that Dumbledore had shipped him off to some random family to be raised instead. He just didn't know how he would be able to deal with some identical glory-hound for a brother. Ivy was bad enough with her constant fantasizing about Harry; he didn't need to be there in person.

As the Potter family all mused on their lost child, none of them knew that as they mused, he was formulating his own plans contrary to theirs.

-Break-

Sitting in his desk at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was digging through every book in his possession for a solution to his panic. The problem?

He had _lost_ Harry Potter.

He hadn't thought it possible, but apaprently it was. He had dropped by the previous day to check on Harry, but instead found the entire Dursley family hospitalized, with attempts at Legilimency to determine what had happened had yielded only blackness. Someone had done an incredibly thorough obliviation on them, as a skilled legilimens could see through almost any obliviation, by recovering the slightest bits of memories missed by the spell, but in this case his search had been fruitless. The only possibilities he could imagine were that either Harry had had a fit of accidental magic that injured and obliviated his relatives and then ran away, or someone somehow got through the blood wards, savagely beat the Dursleys, obliviated them, and absconded with Harry. Both were worrying possibilities.

Even worse was when the boy's Hogwarts letter wouldn't send. The owl had picked up the letter and simply sat on the desk, the universal sign for an invalid recipient. The Hogwarts charter still confirmed Harry as living, much to his relief, but owls couldn't find him. The quill that automatically addressed the Hogwarts letters had simply written a "?" where the address usually went, which meant that he had to be under wards rivalling Hogwarts', but such places were rare, and unlikely as they were more often than not official buildings.

As he rooted through his library in search of locating spells that he hadn't already tried and came up blank with, he didn't notice the quill suddenly perk up and scribble an address down on the three letters on his desk that hadn't sent. He also didn't notice an owl sweep down from the rafters, pick up the letters, and fly out the open window.

He returned to his desk, not noticing the disappearance of the letters until a number of hours later, when the same owl flew back in, bearing three letters in its talons, before depositing them on his desk with an exhausted hoot.

Hands slightly shaking, he viewed the three letters, all written on parchment, with proper wizard quills. He noted the three names on the letters.

Harry Potter

Sakura Emiya

Illyasviel von Einzbern Emiya.

The latter two were something of a concern for him. He recalled being notified of two, somehow undiscovered, pureblood witches being registered for Hogwarts by their father. What he couldn't figure out was why the Hogwarts quill figured out where all three of them were at the same time, and delivered them with the same owl. He then noticed that all of them were addressed from a Gringotts dropbox.

That was truly worrying. The only people who ran their mail through Gringotts were the truly paranoid. For one, the dropboxes were incredibly expensive, and second, they were defended by the goblins with the same tenacity with which they defended a bank vault. The amassed army of wizardry could attack Gringotts and the goblins would fight to the last to defend a single mailbox. It was one of the greatest and worst things about dealing with them. Not to mention, the only explanation for all of them using the same dropbox was that they were living together, which gave into his second theory for the fate of the Dursleys. Hesitantly, he opened Harry Potter's letter, noting the high quality ink and elegant, formal handwriting, betraying his experience with writing with a quill, something no muggleborn or raised wizard should have experience with.

"To Whomever It May Concern,

I do hereby accept your invitation to attend your illustrious school. I understand that I will need to acquire most of the supplies at Diagon Alley, so I shall meet a school representative there as per your letter's instructions. It is rather unnecessary as my father has taken me there before, but I will accede nonetheless. Please do note that my siblings Illyasviel and Sakura shall be joining me there, and will be requiring school supplies as well. We will be arriving at the Leaky Cauldron at precisely noon tomorrow, and will meet your representative there.

Regards, Harry Emiya."

Dumbledore's heart sank as he read the letter. Evidently, _someone_ , likely this Emiya fellow, had interfered in Harry's life. He racked his brain, trying to think if he'd heard the name anywhere before, but kept drawing blanks. From the wording in this letter, the man was an experienced wizard, but beyond that, he had no clue. What concerned him was the way Harry wrote. No ten-year-old, even a traditional pureblood, should write in such a clinical and unfeeling fashion. It reminded him greatly of Tom Riddle's writing. Evidently, the purpose of his upbringing had worked, even if part of it was carried out by somebody else.

The fact that he called this Emiya fellow "father" was not good. If Harry was to be turned to the light, his true family would be a pivotal part in it. He didn't know how he would work around Harry possessing another father and at least two girls he called sisters. He considered sending James and Lily to pick him up, since they taught Defense against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, respectively, but he knew that gathering information was more important. He would have to send Severus to take them Diagon Alley shopping and see what Legilimency could determine. Neither he nor the Potters would be happy about it, but it was for the Greater Good.

-Break-

Harry, Sakura, Illya, and the maids sat at a dinky table in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for the school representative to show. Harry wasn't really sure why it was necessary for him to attend the school, but Zelretch had insisted, claiming that it was always important to keep yourself anchored to your home dimension, and both Sakura and Illya wanted to study wizarding magic. Harry didn't really need to study it, as Tom Riddle had known more about magic than they would ever teach at Hogwarts, but he would rather die than let his sisters out of his sight in a society as prejudiced and backwards as the wizardry world.

The fireplace in the tavern flickered green flames, revealing a man. Said man had a shallow, bitter face; a hooked nose; greasy, black hair; and finely tailored black robes with a green tie. He looked around for a moment before his eyes locked on Harry, and upon seeing him, sneered almost immediately. He stalked menacingly over to the table, his robes billowing behind him, something that might have intimidated a normal ten-year-old, but only came off as needlessly dramatic to someone who have lived through a war with beings so above mankind they might as well be Gods.

"Potter!" he growled quietly, "Get up from that table. I'm to take you shopping. You will address me as Professor Snape at all times, understood?"

The maids tensed and glared, obviously not liking the rudeness of the man, but the professor didn't even seem to notice either them or the other girls. Either he was stupid, which Harry didn't think likely, or, and it was possible, he was so prejudiced against him that he failed to properly analyze his surroundings. Gilgamesh had been similar in that aspect, as his obsession with Saber had tended to make him overlook the other people present.

Harry looked up at the man in front of him, and as he made eye contact, he could feel tendrils of... _something_ trying to burrow inside his brain. Thankfully, he immediately recognized the feeling from Tom's memories, who had quite a lot of experience with the Mind Arts found in them, and he mentally applauded the man. He'd read that it was much easier to perform Legilimency on someone if you got them angry or annoyed first, which had apparently been one of his goals when being rude with him.

Unfortunately for Snape, Harry possessed both Occlumency and a reality marble, making it virtually impossible to enter or even understand his head. If by some miracle his mental shields were breached, the person attempting to enter his mind would likely go insane when presented with it, since it was so alien their brains would fry before they could even properly process it.

He noticed the teacher's millisecond look of confusion, before he schooled himself, a feat that showed that while he was not used to be unable to read a mind, he was a good enough actor to put on a facade in record times.

Acting like he didn't notice anything, he stood up, with Sakura, Illya, and the maids doing the same. It was then that the professor seemed to notice them, and make eye contact with all five. The maids silently informed him that the man had attempted Legilimency on all of them as well, but their own mental shields prevented it from working. He'd ensured that anyone he knew that might come into contact with wizards was schooled in the art, as he didn't want either his or their secrets revealed by a skilled mind reader.

The bitter man motioned for them to follow and led them through the brick wall and into the alley.

 _This is going to be an interesting shopping trip_ , Harry thought.

-Break-

The professor that had picked them up led Harry and the girls through the alley, Harry figured that the tension might be broken a bit by some conversation. Now, he did not mind the silence, but he figured that the man might end up aggravating either Illya or Sakura, neither of which was advisable at the moment.

"So Professor Snape, if you don't mind me asking, what subject do you teach at Hogwarts?"

"Potions," the man replied, not even looking back.

Harry was intrigued. Potions had been one of the few subjects on the Hogwarts curriculum that had truly fascinated him. It was one of the only subjects that magecraft had no equivalent of.

"Really? Can I ask you to recommend a good beginner potions book? I read up a bit on the subject and found it amazing!"

This did get Snape to pause a bit, as he turned and gave him an odd look.

"You're interested in potions? Why?" he demanded gruffly.

"Well, most conventional wizardry does relatively mundane things, make items float, light things on fire, breathe underwater, and the like. Potions on the other hand, can do far more amazing things. The Felix Felicis potion literally bends reality around the user to make them appear lucky, the Polyjuice potion rewrites the drinkers entire body and DNA in order to make them take on the appearance of another, and even something as common as Skele-Gro can regrow an _entire_ skeletal system in a single night."

"So you don't find the subject boring or a waste of time?" Snape demanded. Most wizards, especially Potters disdained the practice of potion-making as something for either sneaky poisoners or boring people, as it was one practice of magic that required true patience above all else.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Harry replied.

Snape scrutinized him for another moment, before something Harry identified as 'approval' flashed in his eyes.

"Most find potions to be useful, but not worth learning. Since a single complex potion can require a month to complete and still come out a failure, many lack the patience for it."

"It is said those who study the way of ambition learn patience," Harry muttered idly.

"What was that?" Snape asked, not believing his ears at a Potter stating something positive about Slytherin values.

"Huh, just something Grandfather once said," he replied in the way of an explanation.

"I see."

The group descended back into silence as they made their way to their first stop, Flourish and Blotts. Harry handed the list off to Leanna, Monica, and Joy; and they went out to search the shop for the required books.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Mr. Potter, but why have you brought three maids with you?"

Harry sat down on a bench inside the store, Sakura and Illya joining him.

"I understand the idea is rather unheard of in the wizarding world, but the three are actually my familiars. They may not look it, but they are actually magical constructs of a sort."

Snape was internally stunned, but held his composure. It was clear that these maids were all entirely sentient, which meant that they were far more complex than golems, which were at most able to process one or two, or in the best cases, five basic orders before they became too complex to manage. He had never heard of such advanced magic creations, despite the rather constant experimentation from the Dark Lord, who had hoped to find a way to create more foot soldiers this way.

"I see... and do you have any intention of taking your... familiars to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, at their own request."

"And why, Mr. Potter, would you require three maids at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Protection, primarily. They may not look like it, but due to their nature as constructs, they're also extremely strong, and capable of magic. The original reason I got them was as bodyguards. They're rather dedicated to the role, so they insisted on coming along into unfamiliar territory run by the man who exposed me to the hell of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon."

The last part of that statement really caught Snape's attention.

"Aunt Petunia? As in Lily's sister? The one that hates magic with a passion?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

"Yes, that Petunia. I'm sure you can imagine the sort of upbringing that particular prejudice brought about," he muttered grimly.

Yes, Snape could imagine that kind of upbringing. He could also sympathize, as some of his most vivid childhood memories were of his father in a drunken rage, shouting at and beating both him and his mother, screaming about "freaks" all the while. Suddenly, instead of seeing a younger James sitting on the bench in front of him, he instead saw himself at the same age. As the image shifted, something 'clicked' in his head, and a plan started to form.

Never let it be said that he was the head of Slytherin house without reason. As he looked at the child in front of him, he mused on what a humiliation it would be to James if Harry preferred his arch-nemesis in school over his own father. Not only that, but if he managed to get close to the boy, he might have more occasions to speak to Lily, and hopefully, mend their rather strained friendship. She had never quite forgiven him for calling her a Mudblood, something he still regretted to this day.

He put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

"The Apprentice's Introduction to Potion-Making." he stated in the tone of a teacher. Harry looked up at him.

"Pardon, Sir?"

"Earlier, you asked if I'd recommend a good introductory potions book aside from the one for my class. That's the one I'd suggest. It has many more potions and ingredient variations in it, but is difficult for all but the most gifted of potion apprentices to understand."

 _And something tells me you are going to be very good at potions,_ he mused. Truthfully, Potions were not _that_ complicated, although they were harder to understand than most wizardry subjects. The main reason few actually were good at the subject was due to the fact that few were willing to actually put in the effort to be great instead of merely good.

"Master, we found the books," came a smooth, feminine voice from off behind him. He turned to find Harry's familiars, each bearing a massive stack of textbooks for each of the three children. Fortunately, they were mostly alone in the store, as Hogwarts shopping had been done two days prior, otherwise, the three stunning women in rather revealing maid outfits might have caused some problems with the more conservative wizards and witches.

He looked at the sheer volume of books they were casually carrying and confirmed that Harry was not lying about their strength, and he made a mental note to not anger them. After picking up the book Snape had suggested, the maids carried their loads over to checkout, shocking the poor teenage wizard on checkout duty, either because of the sheer amount of books they were buying, or because of their uniforms, both was possible.

Harry paid for the books with money from a pouch inside his coat, along with a small case bearing space expansion charms to store them. The center maid picked the small case up and stood behind her charges.

As the shopping continued, the two girls with Harry opened up a bit. Apparently, they had been somewhat wary of him, but his gradual opening up had made them more outgoing. He found that they were actually very nice girls. Sakura, the one with the purple hair that was apparently natural, was an incredibly sweet girl, and seemed like she'd be a very intelligent witch. He thought she was a natural fit for Hufflepuff due to her nature, but something about her made him wary of that. Something about her just felt... _off._ It was like her shy nature hid an innate darkness. And the way she clung to Potter's child made it clear that she had something of an infatuation with him.

The white haired one, Illyasviel, was much more open about her darkness. On the surface, she acted like a slightly immature ten-year-old, clinging to Harry and calling him "Big Brother" incessantly. Every once in a while though, she would make a casual comment, the likes of which he would expect from a seventh year Slytherin in their ruthlessness and cunning. Potter's son clearly had strange company, between his maids and sisters, although he privately thought that they would be good influences of his Slytherins if they ever ended in his House. He just feared to meet this "Kiritsugu" fellow, who had apparently taken the three in, despite Illya being his only biological child.

After a while, he had learned enough details to piece together the abbreviated story of what had happened to Harry, from when the Potters gave him up, up to their meeting. Apparently, the Dursleys had raised him up to the age of six, after which an old man named Zouken, whom Harry and Sakura also occasionally called "Grandfather", had kidnapped Harry. It was after this abduction that he met Sakura, whom the old man had also abducted, although from the way it was told, it seemed her family had known about it and done nothing. From there, he subjected them to inhuman experiments in an attempt to make them more magically powerful for his own purposes. Neither Harry nor Sakura would say exactly what he did, but from the look that crossed Sakura's face, it was horrifying beyond comprehension. Then again, gaining more power through the Dark Arts was rarely pleasant, and he did not want to think what kind of twisted things had happened to them, as he remembered all too well the rituals undergone by the Dark Lord, and their prices.

Harry and Sakura had lived with Zouken for another five years, until about four months ago, when this Kiritsugu fellow had stepped in, killed Zouken in self-defense, and taken the two children living with him under his wing. After that, both of them were introduced fully into the wizarding world, where Zouken had only permitted them bits and pieces. The old man had likely not wanted them to know too much, in case they escaped probably, which would have made tracking them down easier.

Snape could see what had made the boy into what he was, at least.

-Break-

The group of six went from shop to shop in Diagon Alley, buying their supplies. Occasionally, Snape would suggest the purchase of additional supplies or other products, such as a six compartment trunk instead of a four compartment one; a large kit containing both the required potions ingredients and ones in the other potions book Snape had recommended; a copper cauldron instead of a pewter one, as while pewter was easier to replace if as a first year you blew up your cauldron, copper could handle more advanced potions; and so forth.

Eventually, the last item left on the list was wands. Harry didn't really see the point in it, as no self-respecting magus would be reliant on something as easily stolen or broken as a wooden stick, but apparently it was tradition. The group arrived at the ancient looking store, older than any other in the alley, and went in.

Snape got to see firsthand the prowess of the maids as Ollivander did his usual trick and appeared behind the group, only to immediately be pinned to the floor by three women, who were all scowling at him. He swore the floor _dented_ with the force with which the maids slammed him against it. Obviously, Harry had not lied when he claimed that they served as very dedicated bodyguards.

After letting the wand-maker up, the girls all gave the man vicious glares for attempting to startle them, which he bore sheepishly, apparently unused to have his trick seen through. After explaining their need for wands, something that he noticed the three children seemed to care little about, Ollivander pulled out a tape-measurer and began trying wands out for them.

Sakura's wand was cherry wood and unicorn hair, although Ollivander noted that he suspected that some error had been made in this wand's construction, as it seemed unusually dark, especially considering the ingredients. Unicorn hair was supposed to be quite the Light material, yet he claimed that the wand would never have bonded with a Light witch, something that made Snape's eyebrows quirk in question.

Illya's wand was oak wood from the Black Forest and thestral hair. Ollivander was quite solemn, and his eyes bore deeply into the snowy-haired girl's own, when he said that it was quite the powerful wand, and one that would align much better with a Dark user too.

When it came to Harry's turn, Ollivander pulled out a box, seemingly at random, and handed it to him. He flicked the wand, not even activating his circuits; he needed a wand, not a smoking crater in the earth after all. He could feel his prana channel through the wand, but that it was a very poor conduit. The magic poured through the end, flying out and reducing a nearby table to cinders.

"Well, I've never seen _that_ happen before, but there's a first time for everything," Ollivander noted, gingerly taking the wand away and replacing its case.

What ensued were several repetitions of the incident, until an idea seemed to occur to the old man, who ran into the back and came out with a wand Snape knew from Dumbledore's description, the wand being supposed to be the one to bond with the Chosen One, Orion Potter. Why he would even try giving it to Harry he didn't know, but he suspected that the old man believed Dumbledore might have made a mistake when he had declared Orion the Boy-Who-Lived. For why else would he have Harry try the brother wand of the Dark Lord?

"Holly wood and Phoenix Core. This wand will go to either you or your brother."

As Harry made contact with the wand, he could feel it align itself to him, ready to obey his command. Unfortunately, Harry already had an idea for what wand materials he wanted. So as not to reveal the wand's bonding to him, he purposely mischanneled his prana into the wand, causing it to shoot out a gout of fire that singed Ollivander's eyebrows. The wand-maker looked disappointed, but maybe that was just the lack of eyebrows.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that I don't have a wand that will work for you. None of the materials seem to react well to you. I'm honestly confounded."

"If I may suggest, Mr. Ollivander. I suspected something like this. I brought some materials of my own."

He reached into his black coat and removed a small case. Inside was wood from the Tree of Knowledge, and two hairs: one from Prim, one from Midnight.

"Let me see them," the wand-maker said, beckoning. Upon touching the case, his hand shook, nearly dropping the precious materials.

"M-M-Mr. Potter... where did you get these?"

"I'll tell you what. Make me the finest wand you can and swear a magical oath of secrecy. If you do both of those, I'll tell you."

"O-Of course. No charge for the other wands. Just being able to work with and study these materials is enough," he gushed.

"Nonsense. I always pay my debts," Harry replied, placing a small stack of galleons on the table, before turning and walking out the door.

"Come back in about four hours for the wand!" Ollivander called after him.

-Break-

Four hours later, after grabbing lunch at a small restaurant in the alley, Harry returned for his wand, leaving Snape to watch the girls.

He walked in through the front of Ollivander's shop. Fortunately, the odd man had not pulled his appearance trick again, and was simply sitting behind his desk, looking how most men would after a round of mind-blowing sex with a supermodel.

"Mr. Potter, I cannot tell you how much of a privilege it had been to work with these materials."

As he spoke, he pulled out a polished wand case, and open it reverently. Inside was a beautiful wand.

It was midnight black, with bone-white veins running through it. The polished wood seemed to just radiate power and ruthlessness. He tentatively reached out and grasped it. If touching the phoenix wand had been a rush, this was a torrent. Power flooded through his bones as the wand seemed to reverberate throughout his very being. He supposed using materials from your very soul did that to you.

"It is truly a masterpiece, Mr. Ollivander," he said, examining the wand. He gave it a cautious flick and one of the chairs before turned into an elaborate throne.

"Well, I'd say this wand has formed a bond with you better than any other wand I've ever sold Mr. Potter. Now, about how you acquired those materials?"

Harry gave a sly grin, "Well you see..."

-Break-

After picking up his wand, Harry and the girls had gone home. After saying his goodbye's to Snape, he and the girls had rounded the corner and used the Kaleidoscope to return to the Einzbern castle. As they walked to the bedroom, Harry made sure to greet the various maids he passed, an action that still seemed to startle them. They still held the same, slavishly loyal manner as when he had first ascended to Lord Einzbern, but he figured that it would fade in time. He noticed that some of them seemed unfamiliar, but he attributed that to some of them being pulled up from stasis after his "coronation" as it were. He didn't notice Assassin in the rear giving them significant looks.

Harry thought back on his encounter with Professor Snape. Zelretch had informed him that the man could be trusted, so Harry had given him a mostly true account of his life, with the exception of the war, magecraft, and parallel universes. Snape had been intrigued, and after Harry told him of his plans for revenge, was very interested. Most of the members on Harry's revenge list were on his own. He trusted that the man would not leak anything contrary to his plans to Dumbledore, and if he did, well Harry had more than a few ways to deal with him should the need arise. Apparently, the professor wanted to take Harry on as an apprentice, provided he made it into Slytherin. Perhaps he would have an ally to help with his plans.

At the bedroom, Harry laid down, and the girls crawled in after him, all clinging to him in some fashion. Saber was still the only one that opted for undergarments, but he noticed that ever since she had started gradually accepting her womanhood, they had been gradually getting smaller. The tiny knight was still incredibly self-conscious about her body, but the other girls were slowly helping her come out of her shell. It was something that made him glad.

-Break-

Snape flooed back to Hogwarts feeling drained. Harry Emiya was someone that was hard to believe existed. He was unfailingly polite, even when insulting someone; apparently possessed multiple, powerful, and sentient familiars; and from what was revealed had been the subject of abuse surpassing Snape's own. And that was saying something. He thought the boy would make an excellent apprentice if he made it into Slytherin house. He only said _if_ because the boy also had a shot at Ravenclaw. It brought a delighted sneer to his face that Harry would be the first Potter in history that wasn't sorted into Gryffindor. He'd have to tell Sirius at the first chance he got.

After Voldemort's demise, apparently Sirius and James had undergone a big fight over his abandonment of Harry. The fight had nearly ended their friendship, and led to Sirius moving into the Malfoy manor with his cousin Narcissa and her husband Lucius.

If there was a living man today who embodied Slytherin house, it would be Lucius Malfoy. The man was ambitious, cunning, and powerful. He'd been one of the few dark families actually cunning enough to avoid being drawn into The Dark Lord's influence. Instead, the man had simply waited it out, and reaped the profits of his demise. The man had influence with nearly every member on the Wizengamot and the ear of the Minister. If Severus was to be pressed to say who truly ran magical England, he would most definitely say Lucius Malfoy.

Anyway, Sirius living at the Malfoy manor had forced some interactions between himself and Sirius. They had originally held a quiet sort of disdain, but their mutual anger at James Potter and a sincere apology on Sirius' part had mended quite a lot of fences. Soon, the two shared a sort of rival friendship. They primarily took potshots at each other whenever Severus ate dinner with the Malfoys and occasionally grabbed a drink together at Hogsmeade during the school year.

He also made a mental note to introduce young Harry to Lucius if the chance arose and the boy landed in Slytherin. Something told him that his blonde friend would see the same potential in Harry that he himself did. He shuddered to think how far Harry would go if he ever realized his full potential, and had the backing of the Head of the Malfoy family.

The best part of the entire trip though had been the little talk near the end. The boy truly was ruthless and cunning. He'd laid out a devious plan to get revenge on everyone involved in his placement with the Dursleys. Since Severus had hated everyone on the list with the exception of Lily, he'd agreed to be a partner to it. If the two met, he'd imagine that Sirius might get on board as well, if only because he would see it as a masterful prank. He'd make the suggestion to Harry at a later date.

Arriving at the Headmaster's Office, he stated the password and entered to deliver his report.

"Ahh, Severus. How are things with young Harry? Any problems?" smiled the old man, his voice jovial as ever, making him want to curse the old man, not for the first time either. How someone could be so irritating, he had no idea, but he didn't like owing the man, especially since it forced him to interact with him on a daily basis, when he would have been fine seeing him once a month.

After seating himself, he told Dumbledore a heavily edited version of his encounter with Harry, portraying him as a hurt, abused, and lonely child careful about trusting people out of a fear of getting hurt. He mentioned that after the Dursleys, a man named Zouken had kidnapped him and inhumanly experimented on him, and that even Harry didn't know the effect of the trials.

He was quite disgusted to see that the old man seemed _relieved_ at the news. How he could claim to be working for the Greater Good and purposefully leave a child be abused, he had no idea, but he hoped that Harry's plan would see him getting his just desserts. He was far too used to getting his way to be allowed to continue supervising Hogwarts, not when he saw the students as expendable pawns.

"So Severus, in your opinion, what house is the boy destined for?"

"Slytherin or perhaps Ravenclaw. The boy isn't evil, but his upbringing seems to have left him with an ingrained suspicion that might draw him away from the two lighter houses. Rather bright though, irritatingly enough," came the unhesitating answer.

"Thank you Severus. May I also ask what your Legilimency uncovered? You didn't mention."

"I couldn't use Legilimency on any of them. I don't know how they managed it, but all six of them have complete Occlumency barriers. Trying to enter their minds was like hitting a brick wall. They said it was a result of some of the experiments that Zouken fellow preformed on them."

This deeply troubled the Headmaster. No child should be able to learn Occlumency, especially to that level. It was why he felt free to use Legilimency freely on the younger students without fear of reprisal, as even the most advanced ones rarely had more than very simple defenses he could simply work around.

"Thanks you. That is all. Remember, the term begins in two days, so be ready."

Severus nodded gruffly, spun on his heels, and stalked out of the office, preparing to get pissed in mourning at the commencement of another school year.

Once the door closed, Dumbledore visibly sagged in his chair. On one hand, his plan had worked perfectly. On the other hand, it had worked far more than expected, and yielded highly unanticipated results. Three sentient familiars? Such a thing was unheard of, and most certainly dark. He would have to ensure that the boy met his family soon, and see if he could talk the boy into severing the familiar contracts. After all, they must be unwilling on the women's parts. What woman, even an apparent construct, would voluntarily be the equivalent to a house-elf for a ten-year-old?

He would send the Potter family to pick the boy up tomorrow. If the boy was to be turned from his path, his family would be instrumental in it. He owled the two, informing them to pick Harry up the following morning to reconnect with them. They had been rather upset with him over his sending Severus to take the boy shopping, but given what he learned, he felt it was justified.

He just hoped it wasn't already too late to turn the boy to the light.


	13. Chapter 13: Sorting

**Welcome back all! Neolyph is here again to bring you more of the story! Sorry about the roughness of last chapter. What happened was that I wrote a massive eighteen thousand word chapter, realized it was too long, and cut it in half. This is the second half of it. Anyway, we are now officially in Hogwarts fully, so I hope you enjoy!**

 **Also, at the suggestion of a PM, I started a forum for this story. The link is here.**

 **forum/A-Broken-Wizard-and-a-Broken-Magus-Discussion-Forum/188670/**

 **Now, for reviews!**

 **RedViking96: Yeah, Dumbles if gonna have a bad time**

 **Have a Little Feith: Dumbledore isn't exactly... senile. He's an old man far too caught up in his own "infallibility" and reputation, to the point where he had become the mask. Theoretically, one could force a familiar bond through the use of compulsion curses and the like on any magical being/creature.**

 **Akuma-Heika: Lorelei views Harry as one to be respected and revered above all others. She is still in the running for the cult. The Einzbern title is passed down like a lordship, and appointed in a will if no blood successors exist. Harry's abandonment became quite common knowledge in the circles around the Potters, primarily Snape, the Weasleys, the Marauders, Moody, the Order of the Phoenix, etc. Harry and Sakura were in a relationship prior to the adoption. They're less siblings and more simply wards of the same individual. Bit of a spoiler here, but Assassin may not have shut down the homunculi production, and may have slightly altered the indoctrination process. Lucius didn't become a Death Eater because he is an inherently smart man and a survivalist. He realizes that Muggleborns are necessary to the survival and expansion of Wizardkind. That was why when Voldemort started pressuring him to sign up, he took his family and took an extended trip to America.**

 **BBWulf: He and Assassin should have an ultimate showdown of the Gods: The Greater Good vs. Harry Potter, our Lord and Savior.**

 **Delta8: Yes, it was a bit lackluster. As I said, it and this were originally one chapter, but I cut it in half due to the ridiculous length.**

 **Thundramon: I've always felt that if Snape put his hatred aside for five seconds, he and Harry would actually find quite a lot of common ground. Lily being alive despite his failure has led to him being less bitter, and therefore more open-minded. When I say the Dumbledore isn't evil, I mean that in the cackling Skeletor or Dr. Doom sense. He's still the antagonist, but not evil. He does everything he does because he believes that it is the most efficient route to everyone being happy. Parallels between Orion and Dudley are intentional. Orion is how I imagine Harry would be were he raised with the love and fame afforded by his status as heir to a Most Ancient and Most Noble House, and BWL. Snape doesn't diffrentiate between the homunculi as 1) Only Harry and Sakura can really tell them apart by appearance, and 2) When "On-Duty", they all act coolly and professionally, resulting in them all seeming identical, despite their varying personalities. Harry refers to Sakura as his sister purely for convenience. They're just children warded under the same guardian.**

 **Gandrin: Perhaps the reason is that this story is more character focused than most Super Harry fics, and Harry solves his problems primarily with cleverness rather than raw power? Otherwise I don't really know, but I'm glad that you enjoy it.**

 **silentstrixe: Indeed. I've always thought that Snape had incredible potential, but failed to utilize it properly.**

 **AbaddontheDevourer: Yeah, I rushed the FSN arc a bit, primarily because I'm not too familiar with the canon. I've watched UBW, but that is about my extent of knowledge regarding the series. Yeah, Fate's Gamble is pretty kickass and one of my favorites, but I'm glad to know I tie with Herwald von Einzbern. Love that series.**

 **Rufus Wilde: Ideally, this will end either fourth or seventh year, it really depends on what direction I take this.**

Chapter 13: Sorting

Waking up first, Harry slipped out of bed so as not to disturb the girls. He was in the middle of putting his socks on when he heard the rustle of fabric and saw Assassin donning her dress. He was hardly surprised, as she had shown to have a total lack of shame when it came to him, and he walked out to check on breakfast, the stealthy Servant padding at his heels. When he had first taken over the castle, he had attempted to cook for himself in the kitchens, but that seemed to make the homunculi there visibly uncomfortable, as they apparently took it as him feeling they weren't doing a good enough job. They had asked if he was afraid they would poison him, which had shocked him, although in retrospect, he really should have expected that.

He had quickly assured them that he simply enjoyed cooking, and while they seemed to accept that, he couldn't help but feel that he'd hurt their feelings. He had eventually sighed, and said that they could cook for him, telling them that it was fine so long as it made them happy, but that from time to time he would still cook, if only to not lose his touch. At that, they perked right back up and made a lavish, multi-course feast for him and the girls. They were marvelous cooks, but they lacked that 'homemade' feel his own meals possessed.

The maids shared many similarities with Assassin in their ability to follow his orders to the letter while still doing whatever they wanted. If he ever phrased anything as a direct order, they complied instantly and perfectly. Anything in the realm of an option on the other hand that ran counter to their indoctrination was almost universally ignored. It was frustrating, but understandable.

He made sure to keep an eye on Assassin at all times when they stayed in the castle. He still didn't trust the black haired Servant around the impressionable homunculi. He'd already noticed that some of the newer ones gave him more reverent looks than usual when he passed by and resolved to tighten his hold on Assassin. The _last_ thing he needed was a couple of the younger homunculi forming a cult in his name.

Oh if only he knew.

Archer still incessantly made fun of him whenever possible. Upon asking, the Servant revealed that Harry reminded him of himself in life, and he wasn't really sure whether that was a compliment from the sarcastic Servant or not. After the war, he'd offered Archer a chance to go back to the Throne, but the offer was declined. The Servant of the Bow claimed that he just found his new Master's life too amusing to pass on. Harry had obliged him, not really having any reason to refuse. He had regretted it ever since. Fortunately, Kiritsugu wasn't quite as sarcastic about the whole thing, though he did share some of Archer's amusement.

Kiritsugu remained the father Harry never had. Every time he heard that they were at the Einzbern castle, he popped on down to talk with them. He asked them how their studies with Zelretch were going, what they'd been up, and told stories from Fuyuki. Whenever Harry had a problem he didn't know how to deal with, the Magus Killer would do his best to help. It was... nice, having an adult in his life that he implicitly trusted.

Harry made his way to the dining room, knowing that everyone else would be there shortly once the smell of food had made its way through the castle. He sat at the table, a group of maids quietly attending him as the food arrived. He'd tried to explain that he could eat himself, but ran into a similar problem as he'd had with the kitchen staff. A lifetime of use as tools had made the homunculi view any denial of their services as either a lack of trust or indication of their uselessness. He'd just gritted his teeth and gone along with it, as there were worse things to have to suffer through. He did draw the line at bath attendants though, much to their surprising chagrin.

As he ate, Assassin standing at his shoulder as was her wont, the others began filing in. Rider was first, stopping to give him a quick peck before sitting down at her place. Caster followed after repeating the gesture and sitting down. Eventually, the rest came in, Sakura and Illya sleepily bringing up the rear, all making sure to give a morning kiss. He turned to Assassin, beckoning her down and planting a kiss on her, knowing that she wouldn't take the initiative on something like that unless he gave her explicit permission. As always though, she was extraordinarily eager once he'd started, maintaining it longer than anyone else, once again.

Once everyone was seated and eating, Harry received a letter via his dropbox. It was another Hogwarts letter. It informed him that his family would be picking him up later that day at the Leaky Cauldron in order to escort him to the Hogwarts Express. He nearly laughed at what was obviously the Headmaster's heavy-handed attempt at getting him to have some sort of family reunion. He considered sending a reply that he was attending to family business today, and that if his parents wanted to see him, they would have to wait until he arrived at Hogwarts. He figured though, that he should meet with them, if only to put a face on his hatred.

He sent a letter to Gringotts for them to mail back to Hogwarts, confirming his attendance, and that he would be escorted by a chaperon and his sisters. He had an idea as to the chaperon, but it would require a couple of steps.

He'd been saving them for a special occasion, but he figured that now was better than never.

"Rider, come over here. I have something I want to give you," he commanded.

Curious, Rider stood from the table and walked over, standing in front of him.

"Now close your eyes, and remove your Breaker Gorgon."

Rider was shocked, and slightly nervous. She didn't want to accidentally turn her beloved Master to stone simply because she couldn't control her eyes.

"A-Are you sure Master? That is rather dangerous."

"I know what I'm doing, Rider. Take it off."

Shakily, she reached up and with a click, the only barrier between her and the painful death of her loved ones was removed. She kept her eyes scrunched shut, determined to keep a tight rein on their mystic properties.

She felt her Master gently brush her hair aside, and something settle over her face.

"Alright, now open your eyes."

"Master, I can't," she pleaded, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

She felt him take her hands in his own, and basked in the intimacy of the feeling.

"Rider, trust me."

For the first time in many, many years, Rider opened her eyes without her blindfold on. The light in the room was nearly blinding, but she persevered. Hesitantly, she looked down at the boy in front of her, expecting to see a stone statue of the boy she loved.

Instead, she saw him sitting in a chair with an amazed expression on his face as he gazed into her eyes. She once again had to fight down the urge to shut her eyes to the world. The two things her sisters had constantly derided her for were her height and her eyes, making her incredibly self-conscious about both. Fortunately, her Master didn't seem to be all that bothered by her height, but her eyes were another story. He had more than enough reason to be wary of them, as every living being that met her stare, however briefly, would be turned to stone, only those with a high magic resistance able to resist their effect.

The irises of her eyes were a light pink, and the pupils were both rectangular and the same purple as her hair. Both of these together gave her beautiful, alluring eyes, belying her nature as a creature surpassing the entire natural order as a gorgon.

She was losing the battle to not blush in embarrassment at the way her Master looked at her, and she found herself gazing into his own eyes. They were a deep green, the color of dark emeralds. Many would not know this, but for her to look at someone without her Breaker Gorgon on, was more or less the equivalent of a deep, French kiss, as it was something that until a couple of seconds ago, she had thought impossible. She could have kissed someone, but she had thought that she would be forever forced to watch the world through the barrier of her blindfold. Being able to stare at the eyes of her Master without it on made her feel quite vulnerable, as if she was naked.

Wondering how exactly she hadn't reduced her Master to a statue in his image, she felt up around her face and discovered that she was wearing eyeglasses.

"I made them for you," Harry explained, "I thought that you might enjoy being able to truly see the world without fear of hurting those around you. I saw your eyes once in the dream cycle and thought that they were too beautiful to hide behind a blindfold."

She just stared at her Master for a moment, unable to think of words to express herself. Unable to properly find any, she took action instead.

Moving like a snake, she lifted him up from his chair and pulled him into a deep, long kiss. Normally, she restrained herself in matters of affection, but not this time. She poured out her very being into this kiss, wrapping her arms around him, unable to find any other way to express her gratitude over his acceptance of her monstrous nature and one of her biggest insecurities. After several long minutes, she let up, dropping him back into his seat as he gasped for air.

"Thank you Master," she said, running her fingers through his hair and beaming at him.

Wordlessly, she walked back to her chair and resumed eating her breakfast, marveling in the various sights around her, and ignoring the heated glares from the other Servants, Sakura and Illya sent her way.

As his Servant resumed eating, Harry mused on the subject of his birth parents.

Whenever he thought of them, he couldn't feel anything but scorn. What kind of parents handed off their child to an old man with naught but a couple minute's debate? The only reason they were lower on his revenge priority list was that they had been unaware that he would be placed with the Dursleys, and had expected him to be cared for. That lay solely on Dumbledore's shoulders, and for that the old man would burn, slowly. He would dismantle the man's world around him and slowly feed it into the void.

He could feel Berserker's agreement with the sentiment over his mental link as the mad giant added another group of faces to his kill list. He'd have to keep a very tight hold on the Servant around both his "family" and wizards in general, as he would likely take even an unspoken order as an agreement to kill them all. Without Harry telling him to stand down, the Servant would likely just start killing wizards until he found the five that were the target of his Master's ire: Lily and James Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Peter Pettigrew, and Tom Riddle. Vernon and Petunia Dursley were on a separate list, with much more direct approaches prepared.

Never let it be said that Harry let his enemies off easy. One of the only reasons he was attending Hogwarts was for revenge. He could easily kill the Potters and Dumbledore if he wished, but that wouldn't be satisfying. Not when so many tantalizing possibilities existed. He would slowly and methodically destroy anyone that was responsible for his hellish upbringing. And best of all, they would never know why. He would do it completely anonymously. He would become what wizards whispered about from the safety of their homes and in the back rooms of taverns.

He knew he possessed the ruthlessness for it. He'd read up on what some of these so-called "Death Eaters" had done and nearly laughed. Rape? Torture? Mass Murder? Those were things the average magus did solely for the sake of research. A magus could detonate a chemical weapon in the center of Tokyo and walk away clean so long as he didn't get caught and he gained adequate data from it.

Even better was that his family was with him the whole way. Illya and Sakura had heard his story and been filled with rage. Sakura figured that since Harry had killed Zouken for her and helped her get revenge on Rin, she'd help him with his list. Illya simply hated them for their transgressions against her Big Brother. The Servants were behind him one hundred percent. Rider, Caster, and Assassin in particular seemed to be planning their own little revenge schemes. The only one that had an objection was Saber, who wanted to ensure that the children were left out of it. Harry had given her his assurance, and she had joined in as well. She had been appalled at how someone could so callously send their own child away to relatives that hated him. Since none of what they did was technically a provable crime, she had assented to the covert revenge scheme.

Harry plotted to play the dark child seeking redemption. He'd act like an estranged abused orphan, who dreamed of nothing more than a loving family, but it came too late to avoid Slytherin house. The Potters would view him as the Prodigal Son, never suspecting his involvement in the hellfire that would rain down on their house.

It would be perfect.

-Break-

The Potter family was incredibly excited. Today, they were reunited with their lost son. They were supposed to be together the previous day, but Dumbledore had interfered and sent Professor Snape instead, simply asking that they trust his judgement. James had raised all hell about _Snivellus_ being sent to introduce his son to the wizarding world, but eventually relented. Even Lily had been angered that her once friend had been sent in their place, especially since she could not see a good reason why they couldn't have gone instead, as they too were Hogwarts' teachers.

The family made their way into the tavern, only accosted once or twice by well-wishers who wanted to meet The-Boy-Who-Lived. Entering, they saw a back table, the occupants of which surprised them. In the center was a boy who could be their son. He was a bit tall for his age; had medium length, well-maintained black hair, bearing an errant steak of purple; round glasses, behind which laid dark green eyes; and was dressed in casual pants and a white button-up shirt. Next to him on his right was a girl roughly the same age, rather pretty and had oddly enough, purple hair the same shade as the streak in the boy's. On his left was a girl who might be a veela, she certainly had the hair for it, white as snow. Across the table were three beautiful, identical women in maid uniforms. Lastly, an ethereal beauty with light-purple hair, dark trousers, and a black turtleneck was sitting at the same table, looking around half in wonderment, and half in disgust. Her eyes were unsettling though: pink, with purple, rectangular pupils, something that belied a creature heritage, and was earning her more than a few sneers, although she didn't seem to care. The Potters tensed at seeing her though, as something about this woman though just screamed _danger_ , like she was something ancient that was not to be provoked. She regarded them as they came in, before reaching over and prodding the boy absorbed with nursing a butterbeer.

He looked up at them, and his eyes lit up. He jumped from his seat and approached them, stopping just a few steps short, seemingly unsure of himself. Ivy took the initiative by leaping at him with a cry of "HARRY!" and tackling him into a hug.

This broke the ice quite nicely, as the Potters then had their big tearful reunion (fake on Harry's part, of course) and everyone got introduced.

The Potters had been informed as to his upbringing with the Dursleys and kidnapping by Zouken. The story Harry had instructed Severus to spin claimed that Zouken's machinations had led to Harry's magical core being severely crippled, leaving him unable to control a lot of his own magic, which might cause his magic to behave rather strangely, or cause odd magical outbursts.

For this reason, after Kiritsugu rescued him and Sakura, three magical constructs that Zouken had created in a twisted experiment had bound themselves to the boy they had been imprisoned with in order to protect him due to his inability to properly protect himself. This had earned the gratitude, if suspicion, of the Potter adults. Lily in particular were very uncomfortable with the idea of her son possessing three grown and very attractive women as familiars. James feared what kind of magical constructs they were, but was otherwise proud of the apparent smoothness of his older son. He of course kept this to himself.

Rider had been introduced as a friend of Kiritsugu that was escorting the three children on this trip as a chaperon. She claimed that Kiritsugu was hesitant to leave the boy he saw as a son unsupervised with the family that had pitched him off to the Dursleys. His mother and father had already apologized profusely for the abuse he had suffered, but never once claimed that he shouldn't have been sent away or that they had done anything wrong. They only claimed that it was unfortunate that the Dursleys had abused him so. A subtle difference, but an important one.

The only Potter other than Harry that wasn't happy about the sickeningly cheerful reunion was Orion. He still didn't see why everyone was making such a big fuss over his brother, who apparently was more squib than wizard. The two girls with him were cute enough though. He might just turn up the Boy-Who-Lived charm for them. He did always love the fangirls. Not to mention stealing them away from his squib brother might just remind the little upstart of who was the Boy-Who-Lived, and who was the unimportant twin. He decided to make his move on the train, away from the prying eyes of his parents.

Eventually, after several hours of painful smiling and disgusting cheerfulness on Harry's part, the elder Potters announced that they needed to get to the train soon, or they'd be left behind. The homunculi rushed upstairs and retrieved the three's luggage, bringing it down and loading it into the trunk of the limousine the Potters owned for use in the muggle world. The large group all piled in, before the driver drove away into muggle London and to King's Cross Station.

They arrived, all exiting the vehicle and making their way to Platform 9 3/4. As they approached, they were cut off by a large group of redheaded children, all running about like chickens with their heads cut off. A plump, pleasant-faced woman that just exuded kind motherliness was bustling around, organizing the small army of redheads into something resembling organization. Finally, the last of her children got through the wall, leaving only herself, her husband, and a young girl that was staring at Orion with unashamed adoration in her eyes.

The redheaded woman turned to follow her daughter's gaze, and her jovial manner instantly faded at the sight of James.

"Arthur dear," she said, "I do believe we have business elsewhere, with people who value things like _family_."

James and Lily visibly winced as she practically spat the last word. Her eyes then landed on Harry, and she swooped over to him, surprising him with her concern.

"Oh Harry dear, I'm so sorry. I heard from Dumbledore what happened to you. 'You can't just send your son away like that' I told your parents, 'It's a complete betrayal of family values' I said to them, I did, but they just wouldn't listen. And now there's all this talk of abuse and experimentation and I just feel so awful about it. You never should have been shipped off like that, regardless of reasoning. Oh listen to me, I'm rambling. I just blame myself, you know dear? I can't help but believe that maybe if I'd been just a bit more persuasive with you parents then maybe I could have talked them out of it but-"

Oddly... cheered by this motherly woman, he took one of her wildly waving hands in his own.

"Pardon madam, but can I at least get your name? I thank you greatly for your concern, but I'm recovering from my unfortunate upbringing and have reconciled with my parents," he said calmly.

"Oh, don't call me "madam" dear," she said embarrassed, "And I'm glad that you have it in you to be the bigger man and forgive your parents, even if they don't deserve it," she stated the last part with another bite in her voice.

"Also, I'm Molly Weasley, and that's my husband Arthur. My son Ronald is attending Hogwarts this year, and his older brothers Fred and George are in the year above you, maybe you can be friends. Just know dear, that no matter what happens, you'll always have a place in our home should you ever need it. It's the least I can do since I couldn't talk your parents out of shipping you off like that."

Harry found himself strangely touched by this offer of Asylum from a woman that barely knew him, but was kind enough to extend the invitation simply because circumstances out of her hands and beyond her responsibility had caused him pain.

"You have my sincerest thanks, Mrs. Weasley. It's not everyday that one meets someone as kind and giving as you. Should I ever need it, I will remember your offer."

The woman surprised him once again by swooping and pulling him into a quick, bone-crushing hug before grabbing her husband and bustling off, never even _glancing_ at either of the Potter adults during the entire exchange.

Shaking their heads, the Potters continued through the wall, and into what Harry initially mistook for a press conference.

It appeared that the Daily Prophet and several other wizarding newspapers had learned of Orion attending his first year at Hogwarts, because the second they came through the portal to the magical station, he was nearly blinded as dozens of cameras went off and nearly deafened by the screamed questions of the reporters.

Orion, with the ease of long practice, began posing for photos, blowing kisses, signing autographs, and delivering statements. Harry instantly ducked out, not wanting any press exposure yet. Most of the reporters didn't seem to even notice him, and those that did quickly dismissed him due to his dissimilarity to the pudgy Orion. The maids took his luggage and boarded the train, not wanting any questions asked. After he was finished basking in his glory, Orion gave one last goodbye and boarded the train.

The main event gone, several reporters took statements from the Potter adults, then all of them left. Glad that the media circus was over, Rider gave the three children a happy goodbye, and walked through the portal. On the other end of the portal, she astralized and walked right back to his side, joining the rest of the astralized Servants.

The Potters came over and gave him a quick goodbye, since they were professors after all, and would see him at the Welcoming Feast, and told him that they loved him. That last bit nearly broke Harry's composure. They did _not_ love him. People do not send the ones they love into the care of a stranger at the vague behest of an old man. Instead of lashing out, he reigned in his anger and hugged them goodbye.

The whistle blew, indicating the need to board immediately, so he gave one last goodbye and boarded the train with Sakura and Illya in tow.

The inside of the train was rather luxurious, with plush carpets and comfortably padded benches. He searched along the train until he found the compartment his homunculi had taken, which was drawing some curious looks from the passing students, and stepped inside. The maids had already stored his luggage, so he sat across from the three, Sakura and Illya sitting next to him. After ensuring that the compartment was completely locked, he sighed and sagged into his seat. Between forcing himself not to lash out at the Potters and keeping Berserker from reducing them to a smear on the ground, he was mentally exhausted.

His relaxation was interrupted by a tentative knocking on the compartment door. He slid it open to reveal small, skinny boy, his face still showing signs of baby-fat, who looked like he was about to pass out from fright.

"U-U-U-Uh, h-h-have you seen my t-t-toad?" he stuttered out.

He was initially going to simply say no, but something about this boy reminded him of himself when he was younger.

"No, I haven't. I do know a spell for that though. If you promise to keep it secret, I'll do it."

"S-S-Sure, I promise."

"Alright then. What's your toad's name?"

The kid managed to gather himself enough to stop stuttering.

"Uhh, Trevor."

Harry flicked his wrist, causing his wand to pop out of the holster Ollivander had thrown in with his wand. The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the powerful looking wand. The truth was, Harry didn't need a wand to preform wizarding spells, but if he was to blend in, he would have to act like he needed it. Using wandless magic before he even set foot in Hogwarts would draw far too much attention for his plans.

"Accio Trevor the Toad!" he said with force. With a croak, the errant toad appeared in his hands, which he handed to Neville.

"T-Thanks so much. Gran would have killed me if I'd lost him again. Um, if you don't mind me asking, what's your name? I'm Neville by the way, Neville Longbottom."

Harry extended his hand to shake in greeting.

"Harry Potter."

Neville surprised him by not immediately asking whether he was the brother of The-Boy-Who-Lived. Instead, he simply reached out and shook his hand, though his hand was a bit shaky and his grip was weak.

"Say," Harry began, "have you got a seat yet? Because if not, you can sit in here."

Neville nervously looked at the occupants of the carriage, particularly the adult and most definitely female occupants, and swallowed.

"S-Sure," he stammered before seemingly forcing his anxiety down and stepping into the car, placing his luggage in a rack, and sitting down next to Illya.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, you said your last name is Potter. Are you one of _those_ Potters?"

"By that, do you mean to ask if Orion is my brother?" Harry replied, not letting any emotion in his voice.

"I'm sorry! I'd imagine that would be a sort of sensitive topic for you. Please, just pretend I didn't say anything." Hastily said Neville, who apparently understood he had set foot on a minefield.

"No, it's alright. I'd probably ask the same question. To answer your question, yes Orion is my brother. I don't really know him though. I was raised by mundanes."

"Mundanes?" Neville repeated, confused.

"Sorry, muggles. We call them mundanes where I come from," Harry excused.

"Ahh, I see. Mundanes, huh? I kind of like that. I always thought _muggle_ sounded too much like an insult."

Along the very long trip to Hogwarts, the four in the train car became fast friends. Together, Harry and Sakura drew the shy Neville out of his shell. Illya would have helped, but Neville was slightly scared of her, a fact which nearly had her throwing a tantrum.

The only interruptions had come when a blonde child that resembled a ferret threw open the door, loudly declared that Orion wasn't in here either, and left without another word, and later when Caster had informed him that Orion was looking for him in the train cars, so he'd wandlessly cast a Notice-Me-Not on the door, causing him to pass right by it.

Ponces.

When the train neared the station, Illya and Sakura went off to change into their robes, although neither of them would have minded if Harry saw them in their undergarments, but Neville was another story. Harry sent the maids to keep an eye on them and ensure they didn't run into problems, as Zelretch had been quite clear on how backwards the wizards' society was. If a Pureblood was to claim a Half-Blood or even better, a Muggleborn had "enticed" them, even if they raped her, at worst they would get a heavy fine, and even that was when the victim had a powerful Pureblood relative.

With the compartment now empty of the fairer sex, Harry and Neville changed into their robes. He had to admit, when he'd first heard that he'd be required to wear _robes_ of all things at this school, he'd been a bit irritated, as he was used to more comfortable clothes, that allowed for more freedom of movement.

Fortunately, Professor Snape had recommended a small tailor shop to him. After about fifteen minutes of measuring and forty-five or sewing, he had a perfectly fitted and tailored set of robes. He'd paid extra for a sleeker silk than the black wool usually used for the Hogwarts robes. Overall, he looked like he was wearing a long coat over a suit than someone wearing preposterous robes. Neville wasn't so fortunate, as he had bought his robe off the rack and was practically swimming in it due to his small frame. As he watched the boy clumsily struggle around in his robes he resolved to give him the tailor's business card.

Now that their Master was dressed, the maids joined him in the compartment, followed shortly by Sakura and Illya. A brief shudder of stopping followed by an announcement to disembark informed them that they'd arrived at Hogsmeade Station.

A group of prefects began ushering the first years off the train and towards a large man with a lantern. The man was huge, but next to Berserker he still looked like a child.

"First years! First years to me!" he hollered at the passing students.

He sent a quick message to the maids to go ahead to the castle on foot and to meet him there. They gave a quick agreement and headed up towards the castle.

The castle itself would have been much more impressive if he didn't already own a castle nearly twice its size. Honestly, whoever originally built the Einzbern Castle in Germany was clearly a magus, because the ornate fortification entirely lacked any sense of proportion. It was something of a stereotype that magi didn't know how to do anything small, a stereotype entirely proven by the ludicrously large castle that the Einzberns formerly called their home. While it certainly looked impressive, it would have been impossible to properly defend in the case of an attack, although that had never been proven due to their family's standing in the Clock Tower.

As he walked towards the large man with Illya and Sakura, he saw Orion step off the train looking miffed about something with a redheaded boy tagging at his heels like a puppy and a brunette girl with frizzy hair that looked irritated with both of them.

A quick flash of Legilimency on his younger twin nearly had him laughing. Orion thought that he could turn up his "Boy-Who Lived charms" to steal Sakura and Illya from him? Sakura would probably slap him for the attempt and Illya might just straight up kill him on principle. She was already jealous enough with Ivy's attempts at getting to know her Big Brother, never mind someone trying to charm her simply to piss him off.

Chuckling to himself, he walked past the man with the lantern and onto one of the waiting boats, sitting down with Neville, Sakura, and Illya. Tired of being wet, he reached into his pocket, projected a collapsible umbrella, and pulled it out. Neville looked at it in confusion.

"Where did you get that from?" he said, eyeing it.

"It's collapsible," he said, not quite answering the question, but satisfying Neville. Harry thought that the boy had potential, but it remained to be seen.

The boat continued across the lake, making Harry wonder why exactly first year students couldn't simply take those carriages like everyone else. Wizards really were irrational. It was as if Zelretch founded a society, minus his sense of humor, and with added bigotry.

At the small dock, Harry put his umbrella back into his pocket, letting it dissipate. He made his way into the school with the rest of the first years, who were all chattering excitedly. He decided that it would help his 'lonely dark child seeking love and redemption' persona if he didn't get involved with any conversations, although he did draw some attention, his unusual hair, and the fact that both Illya and Sakura were staying close to him making quite a few students curious. Soon, a stern looking woman led them up to a large doorway, where they were ambushed by ghosts.

Irritating, he thought, but not insurmountable. With Sakura's shadows, she would be able to restrain or kill any ghosts if they got too nosy. If he could figure out a way to shut down or avoid the talking portraits, he'd have free reign of the castle. He'd have to research what he could do in the castle with his Lord Slytherin and Ravenclaw titles. He'd read that the two were the chief architects for the grounds, so he imagined that they had left some secrets around for their descendants.

The Great Hall was rather interesting. He had memories of it from Tom, but seeing it in person was certainly better, although he thought it was a bit much. The starry ceiling was illuminated by candles, giving it a mystical quality. Glancing, he saw Leanna, Monica, and Joy standing in a nondescript corner, being spoken to by a rather short professor. A mental inquiry revealed that the Headmaster was rooming them with either Sakura or Illya, or both if they were in the same house. Good. The Headmaster was simultaneously and unintentionally giving him familiars appropriate accommodations and placing them in a position to protect the girls, not that they really _needed_ protection. He would be more worried for the other students, honestly.

He followed the rest of his year to the center of the hall, where Dumbledore himself walked out on the pulpit, set up a stool with an old and torn hat on it, and announced the beginning of the Sorting Ceremony. At his words, the hat came to life and sang an atrocious song:

" _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_ _  
_ _But don't judge on what you see,_ _  
_ _I'll eat myself if you can find_ _  
_ _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_ _  
_ _Your top hats sleek and tall,_ _  
_ _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_  
 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_  
 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_  
 _So try me on and I will tell you_  
 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_  
 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_ _  
_ _Where they are just and loyal,_  
 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_ _  
_ _if you've a ready mind,_  
 _Where those of wit and learning,_  
 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_ _  
_ _You'll make your real friends,_  
 _Those cunning folks use any means_  
 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
 _And don't get in a flap!_  
 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_  
 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

He honestly found the song a bit amusing. For a hat, it was rather inventive if it came up with a new song every year. One by one, Professor McGonagall called the names of students to be sorted. He only paid attention to a few. His brother was called, swaggering up to the school, and was unsurprisingly sorted into Gryffindor, along with the redheaded boy he had shared a train car with. The girl from their car, one Miss Granger, was happily sorted into Ravenclaw, much to her visible relief at not being sorted with the two abhorrent boys she had naively sat with on the train in a desperate attempt at making friends. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. It seemed the kid had more backbone than it seemed.

The ferret boy, named Malfoy apparently, was sorted into Gryffindor. He'd jumped up, shouting that he was a Slytherin through and through and that his father would hear of this. The hat had made a quip about Slytherin requiring _cunning and self-assurance_ , not stupidity and family connections. The boy continued making a scene until McGonagall gave him detention, and he sulked over to the Gryffindor table to sporadic applause, two redheaded twins looking like Christmas had arrived early. If their stares were anything to go by, the newly minted Gryffindor was in for a painful introduction to his new House.

Finally, his name was called. Many in the crowd reacted in confusion, not having heard that The-Boy-Who-Lived had a twin brother. He could see his parents at the staff table, giving him hopeful looks; Professor Snape on the other end of the table, giving a different sort of hopeful look; and Dumbledore up by the hat, giving an expressionless look.

He marched up and put that hat on, which instantly fell over his face and immersed him in darkness.

 _"Well, let's see what we have here,"_ _came a cultured, aristocratic voice._

 _"Occlumency, huh? I can't even imagine how you learned it at your age, but I imagine I'll find out. No Occlumency can keep me out."_

 _Harry felt something slither in through his mental barriers and into his reality marble. Preparing for the inevitable, he cast a silencing charm over the hat. This was proven justified when the hat began mentally screaming in agony. Closing his eyes, he entered his reality marble._

 _He found himself in the forest, and began walking toward the sound of screaming. Entering a small section of bushes, he found that the pack of direwolves that had assisted him in defeating Mainyu had located another intruder. He looked like a man of about average height, entirely made of worn burlap. His screaming was on account of the four direwolves that had a hold on each of his limbs with their teeth, and were occupied with viciously tearing him apart in the four cardinal di_ _rections_ _._

 _He let out a sharp whistle,_ _which immediately made the wolves back off, though they were still growling at the intruder_ _. The dropped the_ _man_ _to the ground, still snarling at him, and padded over to their Master, who gave each a passing tussle in reward, much to their delight._

 _"What the bloody hell is this? Never in all my years have I experienced something like this!"_ _screamed the hat, still in immense pain._

 _"Well perhaps you shouldn't carelessly bypass someone's mental barriers,"_ _Harry snarked at the burlap man rolling around on the floor._

 _"Aye, perhaps I should take that under advisement. Now if you don't mind me asking, where are we? Last I remember I was going into your head. Next thing I knew, I got ambushed by a pack of giant-arse wolves,"_ _the hat said, giving reproachful looks at the pack of black direwolves behind Harry, who growled menacingly in response, cowing the figure._

 _"Well, I can't really tell you that, because then you'd go squealing to the Headmaster. I'm already going to have to force a geass on you for seeing this much. I'm afraid you've simply seen too much,"_ _he explained regretfully._

 _"Lemme make you a deal kid: You have the single most interesting mind I've ever come across, and I'm dying to examine it, even if it does have a bunch of mangy mutts guarding it. Let me take a poke around, and I'll both swear a vow of secrecy on the magic that binds me and tell the Headmaster whatever you want about you, your memories, and your personality."_

 _Harry considered it for a moment. Having an artifact the Headmaster implicitly trusted providing misinformation on demand would be a useful tool._

 _"One other condition: The same deal applies to Sakura and Illyasviel von Emiya. You swear secrecy about their minds and tell the Headmaster whatever I tell you."_

 _"Deal,"_ _the burlap man nodded._

 _"I swear on the magic that makes up and binds me that I shall reveal nothing I view, learn, or deduce of Harry Potter, Sakura Emiya, or Illyasviel von Emiya to Albus Dumbledore or any other person or thing. Furthermore, I shall only tell the Headmaster information, truth or fiction, that Harry Potter permits me to. So mote it be."_

 _Harry could feel the magic in the air shift, enforcing the vow._

 _"Alright," Harry said, reaching down and giving the hat a hand, "let's go look at my memories."_

 _As they walked to the central clearing, escorted by a large pack of black direwolves, Harry explained the concept of a reality marble to the hat, who was amazed by his surroundings and the concept._

 _"So it's literally so alien a way of thinking that you can deny the natural laws of the world?"_ _the hat summarized._

 _"Pretty much. Few humans will ever develop one. As far as I know, I'm only the sixth human on earth to possess one."_

 _"Ah,"_ _Harry interrupted himself_ _, "here we are."_

 _They were in the central clearing, at the lake on the eastern part of the central clearing. He'd discovered that it operated something like a wizard's pensive. It contained his amassed memories and knowledge. By touching it, he could access a perfect recreation of any memory he possessed._

 _After explaining its function to the hat, it walked down to the water's edge and put a hand into it tentatively. Knowing that this process would take a while, he went over to one of the nearby wolves and leaned against it like a warm, furry chair. Another came by and laid its head in his lap, which he obliged with a comforting scratch, causing the animal to nearly fall asleep on his lap. Harry himself nearly fell asleep as several hours passed while the hat sorted through his memories, under the watchful eyes of the wolves._

 _He could hear the Sorting Hat react to his various memories. He heard crying at what he assumed were his memories of the Dursleys, horrified sobbing at his memories of Zouken, laughter at his interactions with Sakura and the Servants, more crying at his apparent death, cheers at his resurrection, and more laughter and approval at his plan for revenge. He heard the movement of water, indicating the completion of the sorting._

 _"I must admit, Mr. Potter, you are the single most interesting individual I have ever sorted. Should you ever wish for information on a person as part of your revenge plot, I'm with you. So long as they've passed through Hogwarts, I know everything about them. Some of those bastards need payback."_

 _The hat reached out for a handshake, which Harry accepted._

 _"Now, for your house. While you do have the qualities of all four houses in extreme quantities, you and I both know which house suits you best."_

 _With this, he cupped his hands like he was about to shout something._

" **SLYTHERIN!** " yelled the Sorting Hat, resulting in dead silence resounding through the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat had never taken this long to sort a student. The hat worked at an accelerated rate of thought, sifting through a child's memories in an instant. It had taken him fifteen full minutes to sort Harry Potter. Then there was the actual result; everyone was in a sort of stunned silence. Potters didn't get sorted anywhere beside Gryffindor, _never_. And certainly not into Slytherin. The hat was removed by a Dumbledore, who didn't look disappointed at all, even somewhat pleased. His parents were another story.

James Potter looked about five seconds from marching up, and beating the hat until it resorted his son and the heir to House Potter. Yes, Harry had read up on Wizengamot inheritance laws. In the event of twins, whichever one was born first became heir to the family. Harry had been born a full fifteen minutes before Orion. Worse, it was practically impossible to disinherit a wizarding child unless they were a squib, failed their OWLS, or committed a felony with a sentence exceeding ten years. He knew all of these things because the goblins had informed him that James had tried _six_ times over the years to disinherit him in favor of Orion, but couldn't find legal grounds.

Lily Potter looked a bit disappointed, but gave him a reassuring smile when he glanced in her direction.

Orion was giving him a smug look; a quick blast of Legilimency revealed that brother was pleased, due to the belief that now his father would redouble his efforts to disinherit his squib brother and make him the proper Lord Potter. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, after all. The nation owed him the inheritance as the vanquisher of Voldemort!

Knowing that this moment was crucial, he stood up and put on a mask of shame and regret. He made it just weak enough though that anyone trained in reading people, primarily the Slytherin house, could see that it was fake, deliberate, and hiding pleasure. He could see his plan work by the slight widening of the eyes of the majority of the Slytherins from the fifth year up, and one blonde female Slytherin first year, Greengrass he believed her name was.

The silence still filled the hall, before Snape stood up at his part of the staff table, and in an unprecedented display, began a slow applause. Catching on, in a surprising show of house loyalty, the entire Slytherin house slowly stood and began clapping along. Most of them were simply taking pleasure in the dejection of the Potter adults. Many of them had once been members of powerful families, before Dumbledore had decided that the Wizengamot was too dark, and with the help of James, used his position to economically and politically assassinate anyone on the Wizengamot that voted against him. Due to this, only a few families remained on the Wizengamot that could still vote freely, which meant that Dumbledore had nearly unilateral control over Wizarding England.

-Break-

Daphne Greengrass' family had been a part of this purge, and completely ruined. Her parents, who had been well-off, although not rich, were now poorer than the Weasleys. She still had memories of when she was three and her mother taking her out to a muggle park with an odd expression on her face. It had been explained that their family was ruined, and that their only recourse was to become a vassal of a powerful Slytherin lord. This was not a conclusion that a magical family reached lightly, but the Greengrasses were truly desperate. They would be given protection, finance, and the occasional boon in exchange for obedience and loyalty.

Such arrangements were magically binding, and quite common. For example, the Crabbe and Goyle families were vassals of House Malfoy. In order to become a proper vassal to a Slytherin lord, they had to show their usefulness. To that end, her mother had trained her thoroughly in seduction and manipulation in preparation for service to her future lord.

Her mother would point out two or three boys in the park, and order her to start a fight between them and the like. Her training was harsh, as if she failed she was beaten, starved, and locked in the basement until the next attempt. This became a tri-weekly ritual, and by the end she could manipulate and scheme with the best of them. She didn't really blame her mother, after all, desperate times call for desperate measures and her brother was already the heir to the family, making her little better than breeding stock in their eyes. It also helped that often times food was scarce, so even if she had succeeded, there wouldn't have been any food to give her. It was only due to the fact that her tuition and supplies had been pre-paid via a scholarship fund that she could even attend Hogwarts.

All the while though this process, a burning hatred for Albus Dumbledore festered in her. It was him that she thought of when her mother taught her the use of the Cruciatus curse with a stolen wand. She knew that deep down inside, she was what most would call sociopathic at best, but she cared little. All that mattered was analyzing the potential of her peers and finding a new lord so that her sister would not starve, that her family would not sleep on the streets, and that they could pull themselves out of the poverty they lived in, regardless of the personal cost to herself. If the man she sold herself to beat or abused her, she would have to take it in stride, for the sake of her sister and family.

Her eventual goal was to become the mistress of a powerful Slytherin lord, something quite common for vassals. In preparation for this, she had studied politics, etiquette, and other feminine arts. Her original target had been Draco Malfoy, a bratty, but powerful heir of one of the few families to survive the purge. This was ruined by his sorting into Gryffindor, marking him as unsuitable for a traditionalist family like her own to swear themselves to.

Then Harry Potter had been sorted. It had been quite a shock to everyone, as _Potter_ and _Gryffindor_ were practically synonymous. When the hat had been removed though, and he faced the crowd, she had seen it.

The cunning, the ruthlessness, the ambition, all hidden behind a mask of shame and regret, but purposely displayed to any smart enough to see it.

He had _wanted_ to be sorted into Slytherin, _planned_ on it.

The Potters were one of the most powerful families in Europe, with both the backing of Dumbledore and The-Boy-Who-Lived in their ranks. The only problem with them though was that they had an incredibly naive sense of right and wrong these days, resulting in them losing some minor standing. They used to be more pragmatic under past lords, until James had come along like a bloody white knight and tried to _fix_ everything, even when it didn't need fixing.

But a _Slytherin_ Potter, now that had potential, especially one as cunning as this one was turning out to be. What shocked her was when Professor Snape, head of Slytherin, and widely known for his hatred of the Potters, began a standing ovation for the boy. With the backing of her Head of House, who by all rights should hate the boy, he had the potential to go _very_ far in Slytherin. She'd give him further research, but for now he was her prime candidate for vassalage. If he could read her and react accordingly, he would prove himself. She'd try him during the next week.

-Break-

After the ovation, Harry made his way down to his new house table, still projecting his mask. His lordships already made him a political powerhouse, but the more allies he could make in his own house, the more anonymous he could be. To that end, he had sat across from the only first year that had seen through his mask. He recalled from Tom's memories that in Slytherin, if you were newer or in a position of inquiry, you didn't introduce yourself, you waited for one.

The blonde in front of him scrutinized him, as if waiting for something, while he pretended he wasn't pretending. With silent approval, she introduced herself, extending her hand in another test. An uncultured person would shake it out of ignorance, but one versed in politics and etiquette would respond as Harry did, by brushing his lips across her knuckles.

"Daphne Greengrass," she stated neutrally, "Heir to House Greengrass."

"Hadrian Potter," Harry replied, maintaining the same neutrality, "Heir to House Potter."

He was curious as to why this girl was so skilled in apparent manipulation, and he turned up his Legilimency. He was a bit surprised to find that she possessed rudimentary Occlumency. She would be able to detect all but the most skilled legilimens, and with some training would be able to block them out. Unfortunately for her, Legilimency was one art the Tom Riddle exceeded at above all others.

He was a bit appalled by her mother's treatment and 'training' of her, reminded too much of his own 'training' under Zouken. He couldn't deny the usefulness of this girl though. If he managed to impress his power on her enough during the upcoming week, he'd earn the loyalty of both her and her family, which did hold several seats on the Wizengamot, but couldn't afford the annual dues to maintain them, so they weren't permitted to vote. Someone so skilled could make his plans both inside and outside Hogwarts much simpler.

He decided that he would make this girl his first agent in this world. He mentally chuckled to himself, one day at Hogwarts with Tom Riddle in his head and he was already forming his own personal Death Eaters, although he quite certainly wouldn't use the same name for his own followers. Magi liked to use names only vaguely related to whatever they were naming, purposefully, it made it all the harder for the non-initiated to guess what they were talking about.

He was forced to pay attention to the ceremony again when Illya was called, who skipped up to the stage, making many of the older girls coo at her adorableness. The hat was barely on her for ten seconds before it screamed,

 _" **SLYTHERIN!** "_

Many in the hall were understandably shocked as to how this little girl was sorted into the house of the ruthless and cunning, and so quickly, but were distracted by the next sorting, which was Sakura's. The Slytherins did note to keep an eye on her though.

-Break-

Sakura nervously stepped up towards the hat. Harry and Illya had been sorted into Slytherin, and she _needed_ to be in the same house as him. She wouldn't be able to bear being in any other. She had vowed that she would follow him wherever he went, as he was the sole light in her life. As she walked towards the podium, she could hear some people whispering about her hair, how she was a metamorphmagus, how she was a brat with dyed hair, how it was the product of a magical accident, and the like. She ignored them, as the only important opinion was Harry's.

She sat down on the stool, and the hat slid over her eyes, comically encasing her entire head.

 _"Well, what have we here? Sakura Emiya? I had a little talk with Harry, so don't worry about me telling the Headmaster anything. Now, for where to put you? Hmmm, tricky. I would like to put you with Harry, as I can see how much you care for him and how much it would hurt you to be anywhere else, however, by my integrity as the Sorting Hat, I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you in-_

 _" **HUFFLEP-** "_

 _The hat was interrupted when a foul darkness pervaded it from the mind he was sorting._

 _Pure, natural, unmitigated malice._

 _"_ _You're going to put me with Harry, or I will steal you from the Headmaster's office and re-purpose you into bog-roll,_ _"_ _came a sweet, but at the same time evil voice._

 _The hat gulped._

"Did I say Hufflepuff? I meant **_SLYTHERIN!_** Of course I did, you believe me, right? Right?" _it squeaked out, nervously_ _._

That one really shocked the assembled students and staff. Never in history had that hat _changed its mind_ after pronouncing the sorting, especially not in such an obviously terrified fashion. The Slytherins marked Sakura as another to keep an eye on as she practically _skipped_ down to her House's table, and sat on Harry's other side, where Illya had taken his left.

-Break-

Albus Dumbledore, in his most garish robes, stepped up the large podium and began his speech.

"Welcome to you all! Before we begin, I just have a few words. Here they are: Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak.

That is all, now, enjoy the feast!"

He clapped his hands, and a lush banquet appeared on every table in the hall. Orion and Ron instantly dove into it, without any table manners, much to the disgust of those sitting in the splash zone. The Slytherin table on the other hands was far more elegant, as Harry, Sakura, and Illya had all been drilled on formal etiquette from a young age, as it was part of being in a magus family. Harry noted the approval from Daphne Greengrass, with an internal smirk.

This would be a very productive year.


	14. Chapter 14: Scouting Expedition

**Welcome back! Neolyph here, bringing another chapter! Slightly mixed reviews chapter, but there is a reason for the things I wrote.**

 **Real quick, I started a forum for this story, at the suggestion of a couple reviews and PMs. The link for it can be found here:**

 **forum/A-Broken-Wizard-and-a-Broken-Magus-Discussion-Forum/188670/**

 **The link is also on my profile. For anyone interested, if you can write a good omake in the forum or a PM, I'll stick it in a chapter as a Post-Script.**

 **Now, for reviews:**

 **Aetumus: The reason that Harry is doing what he is doing is because he can. He has endured an entire life of hell because of the actions of a select few, and fully intends to get his pound of flesh. Harry wants them to feel exactly how he felt: scared, alone, and victimized for reasons unknown. Not to mention, he might wrap up his little revenge scheme earlier than four years. He is taking his time with it because which would be worse? Severe pain and torture before death? Or watching your entire life and everything that you have ever built slowly being destroyed by some shadowy and unknown power? Physical torture is satisfying in the short term, but mental anguish lasts far longer and is more painful. For example, the only reason Harry didn't do a lot worse to Zouken was that he was in a rush and didn't want to alienate his new allies. I hope this explains it a bit and that I can keep you as a reader.**

 **EternalKnight219:** **There is a reason for that. I should have probably made it more clear, but remember in the first chapter I think it was that there were two reactions of the torture of Zouken and the Dursleys? They were hardening or shattering. Sakura shattered, but Harry hardened. This has made his something of a mild sociopath, which is what gives him both his grasp of magecraft, reality marble, and knowledge of manipulation. He blames his parents because they are as of the moment, completely unrepentant. James and Lily will both have grievances with Dumbledore, but at the moment, they are in denial as to the extent of the abuse their son suffered due to the guilt it would force them to acknowledge. Dumbledore's confession will come, but not for a while. As with Aetumus, I want to keep you as a reader. If you PM me, I'll explain a bit further the direction I'm taking this story. I promise that it makes sense.**

 **Thundramon: It's less lust and more the desire for attention that most girls show him, due to his fame. He wants them fawning over him, not fucking him. Yes, Dark Pureblood families are very _harsh_ when it comes to raising children. Orion is Sirius' middle name. Basically, James and Lily each named one of the twins, and James insisted on traditional names. He picked Orion, and Lily picked Harry. Since Harry isn't a pureblood name, they went with Hadrian. Sirius is living with his cousin, Narcissa, while Remus is in the muggle world, job-hopping. Snape and Harry aren't lord and servant. They're partners. Snape knows a wizarding-edited version of Harry's life, with the exception of the Grail War, Kaleidoscope, True Magic, and Servants. Essentially, he has history but not context. Their partnership is based on Snape's hatred of Dumbledore, James, and Voldemort. His condition to joining was that Lily not experience any physical harm.**

 **Lord Anime: It's alright. Harry is still Harry. He's only calling himself that because it's his pureblood name. Harry is a bit informal for a Slytherin heir, so he is using the name on his birth certificate. Only those in Slytherin house that are on his shit-list will call him Hadrian.**

 **AbaddontheDevourer: Glad to know I was the first. All of the Servants are at Hogwarts and astralized when in public. They mainly just either follow Harry around or explore the castle. Occasionally, he's going to send them out for a job. Haven't decided on the relationship. Might make it a poll.**

 **Acolyte of the Blood Moon: It think it was raining in the books. Don't remember either, but it is in my head. The Potters do love Harry, in their own way. James loves his son, but is completely paranoid that the heir to his great and always light family will turn out dark.**

 **Kirit0 SAO: Here you go... nom nom nom.**

 **Akuma-Heika: Whenever I think of how Lucius Malfoy should have been in canon, I think of Frank Underwood from House of Cards. However, he hasn't quite been as good a father to his son as he should have been, so Draco is still an entitled little shit that doesn't understand his father's views. I split the last two chapters at the recommendation of my beta, Arawn, who said that A) It might become a bit monotonous to read and B) People might expect it to become the standard chapter length when it was only written in a single, massive fit of inspiration. I'll just say that Dumbledore has a reason for acting the way he does and leave it at that. Orion is a question of nature vs. nurture, one I don't have an answer for, as nobody does. Rider's eyes have jumped a couple ranks due to Harry's prana, and could even harm him if he viewed them directly. Zealot does not possess _any_ name beyond Zealot. If she does pick an actual name, she or Harry will pick it. Ginny hung out a lot with Ron, who was an Orion fanboy, and it rubbed off on her. An accio with the force of a true magician would damn well teleport a toad. Longest sorting in their time at Hogwarts. Don't know about Albus or Merlin. The displaced purebloods are living in muggle London.**

 **BijuuDamaBomber: Interesting ideas. I'll consider them at the very least.**

 **T-B-R: Harry actually did, but he still wears glasses both because they're disarming, and Sakura likes them.**

 **Heika: Harry hasn't yet formed much of an opinion of Ivy. This version of Dumbledore is a bit more "hands on". Sorting goes by order of Hogwarts charter I believe, since they don't seem to go alphabetically in canon. They were registered last, so they went last.**

 **camdawg: Archer has _no_ reason to kill Harry, as he is in no way Shirou Emiya.**

 **Anonamon: Thanks for the advice. I actually do take writing classes in my college, but this fic is my way of relaxing. Normally the quality is a bit better, but my beta, Arawn, is a bit busy with work right now, so he doesn't as much time as he used to in order to beta this story.**

 **Guest: Albus wants to turn a _dark_ Harry to the light, and needed him to be dark first.**

 **Heika: I study programming and I have no goddamn idea how Watson works, and programming metal works on the same principle. If he studied enough, he could do that, but I have a better idea for making it intelligent. Tom was evil when he arrived at Hogwarts, just like Harry, and hated Dumbledore, just like Harry. Dumbledore views the circumstances as identical. That FMA idea is something I've been considering.**

Chapter 14: Scouting Expedition

Albus Dumbledore loomed over the Great Hall like a king surveying his subjects from his lofty throne. This was one his favorite parts to every new year, the examination of the students to determine potential darkness, potential good, and who he needed to push in one direction or the other. The new first years bore much potential, and it was up to him to make sure that said potential was realized, but also to ensure that the seeds of darkness were not allowed to take root. More often than not, if the problem was dealt with when they were young, wizards and witches grew into splendid adults, who wouldn't think of using the Dark Arts. Thus, his careful inspection of each batch of new first years, which already told him that this would be a particularly interesting crop, for several students had already earned his attention.

Chief among them of course was Orion Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. James's younger son was to be Dumbledore's legacy and greatest project, taking up the mantle of Leader of the Light after his eventual demise. He did bear some concerns about the boy's personality though, but for now he would assume that it was simply youth being youth making the boy act as he did. He had instructed Lily and James that it was necessary to dote on the boy as much as possible, so that he would never feel unwanted and stray to the dark. Tom Riddle's hatred for the magical world was a result of his lack of love in his upbringing, so logically to create a Leader of the Light, Orion would need to be shown as much love as his parents could muster. He would grow into a compassionate young man, willing to help others, and to protect those who were too weak to do so themselves.

It was one of the reasons he had sent young Harry to the Dursleys, along with his own personal experiment. If Harry grew up the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived and was forced to endure his parents showering all of their love and attention on Orion, it might have driven the boy irrevocably into the dark. Abuse could be healed by putting the boy with his parents, who he fortunately seemed to have completely forgiven in his desperation for a family, but an entire childhood of being permanently neglected in favor of his twin brother could not be healed simply by placing the boy with the people who had neglected him.

Of course, his plan had gone slightly astray due to the intervention of this Zouken person. The man was apparently on par with some of the more depraved Death Eaters, preforming dark magical experiments on children. It was something of a shame that this had apparently crippled young Harry's magical core, as he had originally intended for the boy to become a lieutenant in the Order, but sometimes sacrifices were necessary. Besides, perhaps such a thing could be used to further mold Orion into a good leader, if Harry ever had to sacrifice himself for his brother, Orion would eventually grow to abhor violence, therefore ensuring that he would never allow another war to take place as long as he was alive.

The familiars that had bonded themselves to the boy were a great concern. He could see them even now, standing at the far end of the Great Hall, impassively alternating between keeping an eye on their charge and watching the students around him warily. They were far too loyal to be swayed to his views, and while he was confident that whatever he did they would not be a hindrance, he would have preferred to not see them at Hogwarts, but they were apparently necessary to make sure that Harry's magical core didn't lash out with "atypical" magic, so he had allowed them to come.

There were three of them, all seemingly identical in their breathtaking beauty. He would most certainly feel great lust were his sexual leanings not in the opposite direction. He would have to divine the exact nature of these apparent constructs to see whether or not he would have to remove them from the school. Severus' report indicated that they seemed completely obedient to Harry, but that was a concern in itself. The PR disaster if the Boy-Who-Lived's brother was found ordering around three women like slaves would be catastrophic.

He racked his brain, trying to work out exactly what sort of constructs these women were, but couldn't work it out. They had obviously been created in some dark ritual, but the only one he knew of that could create humanoids was the alchemical practice of homunculus creation, one of the darkest arts in existence, and even that produced something better resembling a deformed baby than the three identical beauties in maid uniforms that had bound themselves to Harry. And while Harry was clearly intelligent, he highly doubted that even with access to Zouken's library he would have been able to improve the ritual so dramatically, as there was no outside sign that could indicate a Dark origin on the familiars.

Evidently, whatever they were, they lacked souls. They had managed to fully walk up to the Hogwarts gate and knock on it, all without being attuned to the wards. The Hogwarts detection wards could detect and halt anything with a soul, which contained a person's identity. These maids had walked right through them without tripping them. Even vampires and magical creatures possessed souls, but not these women. They also must possess extreme magical resistance, as the physical wards that didn't rely on detecting intruders, but simply blocking anything physical that didn't have permission to enter had been pushed aside by the intruders. Those wards could overcome the collective magical resistance of an entire army of dragons, but had not affected these constructs.

When he had first learned of their following their charge to his school, Dumbledore had instantly contacted Gringotts to confirm the existence of the familiar bond, hoping to have it declared invalid. The request he put in for information regarding the boy's three construct familiars was answered with three certificates, each testifying to the familiar bond between the boy and the women. He'd sighed at that, knowing that he would never be able to have the paperwork found invalid, even with his position.

One supreme law of intelligent wizards was that you didn't attempt anything legally dubious when it came to Gringotts paperwork, as it was the quickest way to have your vault seized and end up barred from the bank. All of the funding for the Order was contained in Gringotts vaults, so he couldn't afford to be barred. And that wasn't even talking about the other consequences, as the Goblins abhorred having something they produced criticized or contested, and they tended to deal with those responsible very harshly.

The only resolution he could think of would be to talk either Harry or the women into severing the familiar bond. He'd try the women first, as he still couldn't fathom why exactly three women with apparent free will would intentionally enslave themselves to a ten-year-old. He suspected that this Zouken fellow had used dark magic to forcibly bind them to Harry, for reasons unknown, and that they followed him more out of obligation than anything else. If he offered to break the bond, he would likely earn their gratitude, and could induct them into the Order. Three women who possessed that insane degree of magical resistance and could not be detected by most wards would be most useful for his plans. Although he would have to check if they were also resistant to potions, as it wouldn't do for them to find out about things he didn't want known if he couldn't Obliviate them, or at least find a way to keep them silent. With magic ineffective against them, he could only hope Potions would work.

Looking over at the Gryffindor table, he noted the Malfoy boy sitting sulkily, glaring at his housemates. He'd intentionally asked the hat to sort the boy into the house of bravery, hoping to encourage the values in him. It was bad enough that the boy's father was one of the few dark families that had survived his cleaning up of the dark families, but by making the boy a Gryffindor, he could simply make the house a light one instead of facing Lucius head on, a fight he was not sure he could win politically. Since young Draco lacked the cunning of his father, it was a valid action, one that wouldn't be contested, and the teen would learn in time to follow the Light instead of the Dark, without need for conflict.

Glancing toward the opposite end of the hall, he noted the two girls sitting next to Harry. He'd done as much research as he could in the short time, but couldn't come up with any information on this Sakura and Illyasviel girls, beside their Hogwarts registers and an adoption form for the Sakura girl. Their father was an equal mystery. The ministry record stated that he was a pureblood, but somehow lacked a magical ancestry chart. If there was one thing he hated, it was unknown variables. Perhaps he'd have to arrange a meeting with this Emiya individual.

He was disconcerted that both of the girls had been sorted into Slytherin. The white haired one was the very image of innocence, with a childishly cheerful demeanor, but was one of the quickest Sortings in the year. The one with the strange purple hair was also odd. She seemed very shy and sweet, but her eyes were dead; completely void of life in a way he'd only witnessed in cases like the Longbottoms, where someone was tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus curse. He'd noted that they had lit up slightly upon her sorting into Slytherin, seemingly delighted at being sorted with Harry. It seemed further investigation was warranted.

He also noted that Harry seemed to be in a conversation with the young Greengrass girl. It was a shame what he'd been forced to do to her family, but it was necessary. The family had been the leader of his opposition on the Wizengamot, so he'd used his position to pass directive after directive specifically targeted at the businesses the Greengrass family relied on. By the time he was done, the family had been made a sufficient example: galleonless, homeless, and bereft of their Wizengamot seats, which since they couldn't maintain, he could as Chief Warlock claim their votes for himself.

With this, he had nearly unilateral control of the Wizengamot, as those whose votes he didn't fully possess, were cowed enough that they voted however he instructed them to. Every once in a while, one of the darker families would attempt to make a stand, and would suffer the same fate as the Greengrasses. It was due to this that the entire Slytherin house seemed to despise him, as they had gone from the economic powerhouse of Hogwarts to the poorest house over the course of a decade.

Fortunately, most of the children whose families he'd been forced to ruin were the children of Death Eaters. It was a "sins of the father" type deal, he knew, but sometimes children made a very good example. When future generations looked at the Slytherin table, they would be reminded of why exactly one did not throw their lot behind a Dark Lord. True the children themselves were innocent, but future generations would hardly care.

Unfortunately for Dumbledore, he'd never studied muggle history as well as he should have. He had no idea that it was the economic ruining of the German people by the Treaty of Versailles that had permitted Adolf Hitler's rise. And there sitting amongst the Slytherins was a young boy with power, charisma, and a burning desire for vengeance. He had just unknowingly laid the House at the feet of someone who wanted revenge, and who had everything needed to unite the House of the Cunning and Ambitious against him.

-Break-

As the last of the Slytherin table finished eating, the dishes there disappeared and the headmaster stood once again. Harry was nearly disgusted by the false grandfatherly persona he put on, which he imagined would fool many of the less perceptive students.

"Well, now that we've all eaten our fill, I have a few start-of-term announcements to make. First years please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden for all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

At this, Filch, standing at the main doors, sneered, his thick and greasy black hair coming down over his shoulders like a curtain.

"Aside from that, your heads of house will detail the rest of the rules. Thank you. You will now follow your respective prefects back to your dormitories, where you can rest your weary heads after this long day."

Given the signal, the prefects rose and began ushering the first years out of the hall. The Gryffindors all instantly began pushing and shoving to get out first while the prefects barked orders towards them. The Hufflepuffs followed after them at a slightly more sedate pace, followed by the Ravenclaws. The Slytherins were last, simply waiting for the commotion to end as it enabled them to return to their dormitories at their own pace. The maids followed at the rear of the group, drawing glances but not questions. Asking questions only made you look stupid in Slytherin, so everyone just pretended that they knew what was going on.

The Slytherins were housed deep in the dungeons, where everything was cool and slightly damp. As a trade-off, since they weren't limited by the towers the other houses used, the Slytherin rooms were much larger, especially when coupled with space expansion charms.

"The painting here serves as a door to the common room," the prefect, Marcus Flint, explained, "If you want to get in, you gotta state the password. Listen up first years, because I'm only gonna say this once."

He turned towards the painting, which was of two green snakes entwined together, both bearing their fangs in preparation to strike.

"Arcana Imperii" he intoned, and the snakes twisted apart, and the wall slid apart, revealing the common room.

It reminded Harry somewhat of a gentlemen's club, not the stripper sort, but the kind where old upper-class British men congregated to read news, discuss politics, drink whiskey, and smoke cigars. Lush carpets covered the floors, an ornate fireplace cast an ominous light over the expensive furniture, opaque windows built into the walls cast green light into the room, all of which resulted in a very cultured looking room, which very much fit the style of Slytherin.

"Girls dormitories are on the right, boys on the left. There's a ward over the entrance to the girls' dorms, so boys can't get in. Now, a couple of ground rules: 1) The number one rule of Slytherin house is the united front. You do not let any house division show. If you have a problem with another member of Slytherin, you handle it in-house, nothing leaves the dorm. If a Slytherin is in trouble publicly, you are expected to stand by them, regardless of your personal feelings. To every other house, Slytherin is a singular, united force. Mess with one of us, the gain the ire of the entire house. Understand? 2) We're Slytherin, so most rules of fair play don't apply, but if you get caught doing something and lose us points, you lose the protection of the house until you regain them. 3) You do not squeal on you housemates. It doesn't matter what the professors throw at you or why, you don't break. Anyone asks, you don't know anything about anything. Slytherin wins the House Cup every year, not because we win more points than the other houses, but because we don't get caught.

Violation of any of these rules will lose you the protection of the house, which will make you fair game for the Gryffindors to attack without fear of retribution. Trust me, you don't want that to happen. Now, any questions? No? Good. Sort out your own room assignments. Due to the small number of you and the amount of room we have, all of you can have your own room."

With that, Marcus walked to the end of the hall and passed through a door leading to the prefect rooms. Alone in the common room, some of the less intelligent first year Slytherins decided that it was time for a powerplay. Looking for a target, they settled for the boy that had looked about to cry as he was sorted, namely Harry. Theodore Nott, Jugson Ivanoff, and Aiden Bragge all exchanged a look, which passed for subtle given their year.

"So, Potter," Theodore began as Ivanoff and Bragge began slowly circling behind him; Harry noticed that Daphne and many of the upper year Slytherins dotted around the room were watching him closely, "How's it feels, being sorted into the house of the snakes? You see, it's really not that good for you, even under normal circumstances. Most of the kids in this house, we used to be all nice and wealthy, until your daddy teamed up with the Headmaster to ruin us. My family used to own a mansion and three summer homes. Now? We're all crammed into a three-room apartment in muggle London, unable to publicly use magic or even talk about it too loudly. And now you come along, Half-Blood. I'll be the first to tell you, I've been itching for this for years."

Harry noted the wand that the boy was fingering as he spoke with something resembling contempt. The three boys were all far too absorbed into their imminent attack to notice the actions Harry was taking.

"You see Potter, I think that it's very important for you to understand your new place in this house right off the bat."

As he finished, Nott jabbed his wand forward, muttering a crude but simple dark curse designed to immobilize a victim painfully. It was likely something his father had taught him. The two boys behind Harry moved at the same time, firing milder hexes of their own.

Or rather, they would have had their knees not been painfully buckled by two maids positioned behind them as Nott's curse splashed harmlessly against Panzer. Monica withdrew her staff and with a swift motion, Nott joined his comrades on their knees as he gritted his teeth in pain. Knowing that the time was opportune, Harry strode to a nearby chair, sitting on it like a throne as he stared down at the three kneeling boys, restrained by the homunculi, whose faces were set into stone scowls. Sakura and Illya took places on both sides of the chair, demonstrating their connection to Harry. Sat like that, he was the very image of calm confidence, further showing that even when he was attacked, he was not one to lash out in anger, and further proving himself to those witnessing the scene. The fact that he had clearly already followers of his own in the two first year girls was just icing on the cake.

"I think, Mr. Nott, that we need to have a little heart-to-heart. I feel that it is best for everyone to understand this early on, so we have no misunderstandings. I am only a Potter in the sense that James and Lily gave birth to me, and when the day comes, I will inherit the lordship. I was not raised by the Potters, and as such, I do not see the Potters as family. As a matter of fact, the first time I met the Potters was about eight hours ago. They shipped me off to relatives who beat and abused me for six straight years. I hate the Potters as much, if not more, than anyone else here. You don't like me personally? That's fine, but don't start something just because I bear the last name 'Potter'. Understood?"

Looking around the common room, he saw appraising looks from many of the upper years, and approval from Daphne. He'd shown his intelligence and ambition prior, and now he'd shown his power. His point made, he stood and strolled towards the dormitories, not sparing a second glance towards the silent common room. The maids gave the three kneeling boys a last painful squeeze as a deterrent before leading Illya and Sakura towards the girls' dormitories.

Picking out a room at the far end of the hall, Harry checked that it was empty and entered. It was a very nice room, tastefully and elegantly decorated with Slytherin colors and snake motifs. Checking the room over, he found several spy spells layered on the room, some placed by the Headmaster, and others placed by upper year Slytherins looking to keep an eye on their underclassmen, for either blackmail or to keep them out of trouble.

His original impulse was to remove these spells, but then another idea occurred to him. You were in the best position when your enemy thought he knew every move you made. Instead of overpowering and destroying the spells, he consulted Caster and rewrote the spell structures. He wove a complicated series of enchantments over the spells so that he could alter what they showed their caster. With it, he could make whoever was watching the image view whatever he wanted.

With this, he could selectively control the information the Headmaster had or thought he had on him. He did however remove the spy spells from the upper year Slytherins. It was best that they didn't underestimate him, as that would lead to needless complications. If he was to rule them, they would need an honest estimation of his power.

What he instead decided to do was find an empty area of the school and convert it into his own personal quarters; well, quarters for himself and the girls.

He quietly sent Caster to perform the same spells on the room Illya and Sakura had selected for themselves. With the room clear, he Kaleidoscope'd into it, greeting the girls as the Servants all deastralized, filling the room. Formulating a plan, Harry sat in a chair in the corner, trying to work out places in the school he could take over for his own purposes. Sakura ended up sitting in his lap with her arm wrapped around his shoulder, leaning into him contentedly.

He mentally reviewed all of the places Tom Riddle had known in the school that were available for use. There was the third floor corridor on the right hand side, a large and abandoned series of rooms and tunnels, but based on Dumbledore's announcement from Filch, it was being used for something. His second option was the Chamber of Secrets. The basilisk in there might prove an issue, but as the true Heir of Slytherin, he would be able to control it, or kill it if it proved an issue. He did however see the benefit of having a bloodthirsty monster lurking in the basement in case he needed to take out a problematic individual within the school. The Room of Requirement would work, but it was too finicky for his purposes, and he suspected that the Headmaster could exercise some degree of control over it, or could at least monitor it.

He settled for the third floor corridor, as it possessed the most space for his use. All he had to do was sort out whatever the Headmaster had put there that spelled 'Most Painful Death'.

Shouldn't be too hard.

-Break-

Daphne Greengrass laid in bed, considering her options. She was growing increasingly confidant in Potter as a candidate for her vassalage. They'd talked at length over the course of the feast, and she was very impressed. He had seemed to have picked up that she was testing him for something, but she didn't know how much he'd figured out, which frustrated her.

Quietly, she removed an artifact from her meager belongings, a mirror which when activated could be used to send written messages. It was one of the few family heirlooms that her mother had managed to hold on to, and she refused to sell it due to its value.

Retrieving her wand, she used it to write a message:

 _"Dearest Mother,_

 _I have successfully arrived at the school, and been sorted into Slytherin House, in accordance with your expectations. Unfortunately, my original target has been sorted into Gryffindor. I presume that this marks him as unsuitable for us to swear our house to. Based, on this, I have selected a second target, who shows great promise. His sorting was a great surprise, and I believe that he will become great._

 _The candidate is Hadrian Potter, Heir Presumptive to House Potter._

 _While his brother Orion was sorted into the house of lions and his father was party to our ruining, Hadrian after a very long sorting has joined us in Slytherin. He possesses the backing of our head of house, Professor Snape, and is most definitely in possession of Slytherin virtues. I suspect that he has already gathered that I am auditioning him for something, which is demonstrative of his cunning. With your permission, I would continue examining him for the position of our future lord and master._

 _Also, on a curious note, Heir Potter seems unusually powerful for his age, and is in possession of unique assets and temperament. Upon our moving to the common rooms, three of my fellow first years attempted to assault Potter, but were foiled by his three maids. I am unsure as to how he managed to get them into the school, but the Headmaster seems to have grudgingly permitted it. Only one of the boys, Theodore Nott, was successful in firing a spell at Potter, which was dispelled by what I presume is either enchanted clothing or a cleverly utilized ward._

 _Potter then sat down and explained that his mother and father had not raised him, but instead left him to be raised by abusive relatives. He claims to hate the Potters just as much, if not more, than the rest of Slytherin House. I believe that if we swear ourselves to him, he would be amiable to setting out to destroy Dumbledore in retaliation for the abuses he suffered._

 _I have also noted that several of my elder housemates seem to be analyzing Potter with similar intent as myself. Many of them had been fully expecting Heir Malfoy to be sorted into our house, providing a wealthy liege lord to swear ourselves to, but with his unexpected sorting, Heir Potter has become the most desirable candidate. If we are to achieve a respected status with him, it would be prudent to act sooner rather than later._

 _Potter displays unprecedented potential, and I pray that you acknowledge it as I have._

 _Your loving daughter,_

 _Daphne Greengrass"_

Daphne tapped the mirror once again with her wand, sending the message to her mother. She sincerely hoped that her mother accepted Potter as she had. Not only was he obviously powerful and intelligent, but he also seemed to be mature, self-disciplined, and above all not cruel. Her largest concern had she sworn herself to Draco Malfoy would have been the demeaning acts he likely would have forced her to perform for his amusement and whims. Considering how close he was to the two enigmas, Sakura and Illya, at the very least she believed he wouldn't ask such things of her, as neither of the girls seemed the type to follow an arrogant boy.

She really didn't care what happened to her personally, as she existed only as a tool for her family, but that didn't mean she enjoyed pain or shame. Given that the three maids that served the boy seemed content, she imagined that Harry would be a fair Master for herself and her family. She certainly hoped so, as her younger sister would share the same lord as the rest of the family.

The thought of Harry Potter becoming the next Voldemort was a thought she found tremendously amusing, with the sheer irony of it. All she knew was that if Harry Potter became a Dark Lord, she would be securing the #2 spot for herself. Although she knew that if she wished to do so, she would have to be careful in her maneuvering, as it was clear that for the moment such a position was filled either by Illya or Sakura. And she was especially wary of both, as while they seemed unassuming, she knew better than to judge a book by its' cover. The hat would never have Sorted them into Slytherin if it hadn't had good reason to. And judging by the terror it had shown when it had almost Sorted Sakura in Hufflepuff, at least the purple-haired girl was hiding something. But nothing would stop her from becoming the most trusted lieutenant of the future major power in the Wizardry World.

It was what she had trained herself for after all.

She was stirred from her thoughts as the mirror rippled, displaying the reply in her mother's elegant handwriting.

 _"My beloved daughter,_

 _I am hesitant to throw our lot behind the offspring of our enemy, but the idea intrigues me nonetheless. The judgement shall be yours. If you believe that Potter is our family's future, swear yourself to him, and become the keystone of his future organizations. If not, find a more suitable candidate, and quickly. Our prospects grow bleaker by the hour._

 _Do not fail me,_

 _Avery Greengrass"_

-Break-

On a brief scouting expedition, Harry went to check out the third floor corridor. He was going to be cautious, primarily to avoid being caught rather than out of fear for any danger contained within the school. Using the Kaleidoscope to sneak out of the dungeons undetected, he disillusioned himself and cast a muffliato spell to silence his movement. He had to make this quick, as the girls would be waiting for him to come to bed. The only one that had chosen to accompany him on this little trip was Assassin, who was silently filling his shadow as always.

He quietly made his way through the halls, not passing a single living soul on his way to his planned future dormitory. Arriving at the entrance, he was stymied by Filch, who was guarding the massive door, muttering darkly to himself. Harry didn't really want to know what went through the bitter caretaker's greasy head late at night, so he didn't listen in.

Honestly, a combination of a comb-over and hair that went past your shoulders just was not a good look on anyone.

 _"Assassin,"_ he called over his mental link.

 _"Yes, Master?"_ was her instant reply.

 _"I need you to distract Filch. Go make some noise down the hallway,"_ he commanded.

 _"It shall be done, Master,"_ Assassin replied before quickly moving to comply.

A moment later, a tremendous clamor resounded down the corridor, making him wonder what precisely his Servant had done to make that much noise. Deciding it was better left unanswered, he watched Filch snap up and dash towards the source of the noise, screaming about how he would catch those responsible and string them up by their ankles. The evil glee in his voice further convinced Harry that he would have to be careful to never end up alone with the man.

Taking advantage of the distraction, he crept up to the doorway and put his hand against the lock. The silvery metal of Panzer flowed out of his palm and into the lock, filling the space and hardening. Rotating his hand, his impromptu key unlocked the door, and he slid inside.

He found himself in a large square room, lit around the perimeter by torches. He also noted clinically that there was a trapdoor as expected in the center of the room. Neither of these really registered to him though, in favor of the Cerberus staring at him from the trap door.

It was massive, filling up roughly two thirds of the giant room. Evidently, Assassin's distraction had roused it from its sleep, as it looked rather cross about something. It resembled a black English Mastiff, albeit one with three identical, drooling heads with teeth the size of baseball bats.

Its three heads all simultaneously swiveled towards him, growling in anger, a noise which made the room vibrate with its volume. Not wanting to be eaten, he recalled his experience with giant canines. Tentatively, he did what he thought what was reasonable based on how dogs seemed to react to him.

He projected a box of dog biscuits. It may have seemed stupid, but if he had learnt one thing from Zelretch's tutoring, it was that sometimes overthinking things was unnecessary, and that it was best to, as they say, "wing it".

Almost instantly, the growling ceased and was replaced by enthusiastic panting and whining. Not even surprised anymore, Harry projected two more boxes, tossing one to each of the heads, which were snapped up in a display that would mortally terrify anyone that hadn't spent a week alone with Primate Murder.

Watching the dog eat, he recalled what he knew of Cerberi. They were a magical, three-headed race of dog that were renowned for their unstoppable strength and magical resistance, unshakable loyalty, and guardian abilities. It was said that they could shake off a dozen killing curses, would only obey orders from their owners, and once instructed to guard a location, would maintain vigil over it until they were called off or died. Their only weakness was that they would fall asleep if exposed to music, though they could be trained to ignore it.

Evidently though, this one was highly untrained. First of all, a Cerberus that recognized a Master would never be swayed from its hostility by treats from a stranger. Second, it had been asleep earlier, despite them never sleeping when on the job. It seemed that whoever had gotten it to stay there had no idea on how to train it, or had lacked the time to do so.

Sensing an opportunity to give Prim and Midnight a new playmate, he projected a dozen raw steaks, which he threw to the heads one at a time. By the time he was done, the giant dog was willing to let him approach.

Scratching three heads at the same time proved a slight difficulty, until he called Assassin in to help him out, which she did gladly. It appeared that the raven haired Servant was rather fond of dogs. Perhaps the idea of a species that loyally devoted themselves to a singular individual for their entire life appealed to her. Regardless, soon the beast was quite friendly to Harry and Assassin.

Harry coaxed the dog up, and went into the trapdoor with Assassin. A blast of structural analysis alerted him to the various detection spells layered throughout the underground chamber, which he manipulated so as to bypass without disabling.

The trapdoor itself simply led to a large hole, at the bottom of which laid vines that instantly tried to strangle him and his Servant. His brow twitched at how Assassin seemed to be strangely _enjoying_ the sensation of being wrapped in contracting tentacle-like vines. He swore he heard her moan his name at one point. Not wanting to ponder it further, he activated Panzer's defense protocols.

Hundreds of liquid metallic tendrils spread from him, slashing and dicing any vines of either himself or Assassin. He deliberately ignored her sigh of disappointment at that. Continuing through the nearby door, they entered a chamber with a locked door on the other side, a few broomsticks leaned against the wall, and thousands of keys flying through the air. Ignoring the broomsticks, he simply repeated the trick with Panzer on the locked door. The magic in the door seemed to resist, likely spelled against lock picking, but Panzer simply absorbed the magic channeled at it and unlocked the door.

This room contained a large chess set. Attempting to walk past it resulted in one of the pieces smacking Harry with the butt of its spear. Panzer absorbed the impact, but it appeared that Assassin didn't take the attack on him quite as well.

Her black hair rose up like an legion of angry snakes, before striking out in fury at the pieces, completely eviscerating them. Not the way he'd have handled it, but Harry supposed that it worked. As the rubble began reconstructing itself, the pair stepped over it and into the next room. As they entered, black fire encircled them and they were presented with a potions riddle to bypass them.

Wanting to hurry up and get to bed, Harry instead simply walked through the flames at the end of the room, which Panzer blocked out. Assassin just astralized and waltzed through them at his side. The next room contained two vicious looking trolls, munching on a bone. He had to tell his Servant to not kill them, as it would cause too much suspicion. Instead, he just dashed past them faster than they could react and made it to the opposite doorway.

The last chamber was large and circular. Bluebell flames illuminated the edges of the room, reflecting off the mirror in the center. The mirror itself was very elaborate and ornate, with the words, "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" inscribed on the top.

As he gazed into the mirror, he was puzzled as he saw himself and the girls watching the various members of his revenge list go through emotional breakdowns. While his victims were evidently in great torment, the girls seemed content and happy, and even Saber had a smile on her usually stern face.

"Assassin," he asked, "are you seeing the same thing I am?" When he didn't receive a reply, he turned towards her and witnessed her blushing harder than he'd ever seen, with an expression of pure bliss on her face. Slowly, she turned towards him, an almost predatory gleam in her eyes.

"I certainly hope so, Master. I hope so. By your most holy name, I pray that this mirror shows the future," she said in that particular voice she used when she was about to start making attempts for his chastity.

Slowly returning to the mirror, though ensuring that at least one eye was on his Servant at all times in case he needed to defend himself, or rather his innocence, he tried to puzzle out what exactly it was and why it was there. He'd gathered so far that everything leading up to this were various defense mechanisms, but he couldn't figure out whether this was the defended object or the final defense.

He so curiously wanted to know what exactly all of this was, and what exactly was so important that a school Headmaster felt it completely reasonable to keep an untrained and Masterless Cerberus inside his school. It was just asking for trouble, especially when he had warned the whole school to not check the corridor out, meaning that now every adventurous student would want to see for themselves what was there. And to make things worse, the door between the Cerberus and the corridor was hardly an obstacle to a determined student, he was pretty sure that even a first year could open it. Which would lead the unfortunate student to face a Cerberus who would gladly eat them or maim them.

As if in answer to his desire, the mirror's surface rippled and showed him his own reflection. Then his reflection winked and patted his pocket. As the reflection did so, Harry felt a weight settle into the pocket of his robes. Curious, he reached in and pulled out a stone the color of blood. It was clear, and about the size of a baseball, but what was odd was that he could not feel his reality marble store it. Confused, he attempted a structural analysis…

By the Root, his brain hadn't been under this much stress since he'd stared at the vault of Gilgamesh. Not wanting a massive headache, he cut the flow of prana. He'd take the stone back with him and see if between him, Caster, Illya, and Sakura, they'd be able to figure out what it was. Considering this a successful little scouting expedition, he turned on his heel.

"Come, Assassin. We've done what we came here for. Let's go to bed."

"Yes, Master," the Servant said, quickly falling in line behind him.

The pair backtracked their way through the various obstacles, generally utilizing the same techniques as the first time. When they arrived at the room with the vines, which were already growing back at an impressive rate, he commanded Assassin to pick him up, and she launched them back through the trapdoor.

Back in the room with the Cerberus, who gave them an enthusiastic greeting, Harry sent the raven haired Servant ahead to check if Filch was still there. After confirming that he was still searching for the intruder, muttering to himself all the while, he slipped out the door and teleported back to his room.

Inside his room, he was greeted by the girls, all of whom were already in bed and waiting for him. Setting the stone on the counter, he stripped down to his boxers and was promptly pulled into the bed by Caster, the woman grabbing hold of him, as did the others, and cuddled him like a giant teddy bear.

He was honestly curious as to the school's reaction would be were they to learn that he shared a bed with nine gorgeous women every night, one of them willing to do anything he asked and who considered him a God she enthusiastically worshiped. His parent's reaction might be amusing in particular. Already, he was mentally rehearsing the tearful explanation he would give his father when the man inevitably demanded an explanation as to his sorting into Slytherin. He was thinking something along the lines of going undercover with the snakes to protect Orion. The Potters were so naïve, it was almost sickening, all he needed to do was act the part, and they would believe anything he said. Any decent magus would be keeping an eye on him for several _years_ before even starting to trust him, but they were evidently far less paranoid.

Chuckling to himself darkly, he once again reviewed his list of possible venues within the school. The third floor corridor would work, once it was unoccupied. The Chamber of Secrets might make a decent workshop, but it wasn't exactly designed for living conditions. He wouldn't take a tower, as they were far too conspicuous. One might suffice for temporary living quarters until he the underground chambers were cleared. He'd seen one overlooking the lake that seemed nice and abandoned. With some tidying up, he'd be able make it work until something a bit subtler could be prepared.

What he did know was that he wasn't staying in these bloody rooms. They granted far too much access to him for his liking, and he wouldn't be able to completely remove the spying spells without the Headmaster noticing, which would limit what he could do inside them. And if the man ever found out he wasn't sleeping in his room, he'd have to explain why he was monitoring him so closely, something he doubted could be done without explaining his less than healthy interest in him.

Those thoughts were best saved for tomorrow. Now was the time for blissful sleep with the girls.

-Break-

From his quarters in Hogwarts, James Potter was getting very intoxicated. His son and the heir to the Potter legacy was a Slytherin. Why hadn't he taken the Headmaster's warning more seriously? He'd done all he could to ensure that the Potter line wouldn't be tainted by darkness, but the goblins of Gringotts wouldn't budge on a legal matter if Merlin himself was requesting it. Honestly, how bloody hard was it to disinherit a child that you know in advance will be led to evil?

He didn't even care if he'd be hungover for his first day of teaching. Right now, the bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey was the only thing standing between him and complete despair. The only recourse left to him was to ensure that Harry turned into the lightest child to ever live.

That might be slightly difficult given what he'd seen of his oldest son. Fortunately, the boy was very enthusiastic to meet himself, Lily, Orion, and Ivy. Even he was surprised by the enthusiasm with which he was greeted by the child he'd unknowingly sent to Lily's abusive sister.

The problems arose from his companions. The two girls with him seemed sweet enough, but he didn't like the idea of some stranger calling Harry his son, and his own son calling two other girls his sisters. His primary concern were the three black haired beauties his that were accompanying his son. His internal father was immensely proud of the fact that his son had three women like that as his companions, but it wasn't like they had any romantic attachment, that would have been immensely disturbing.

He'd consulted with the Headmaster, but neither of them could deduce exactly what kind of constructs they were, nor why they served Harry as they did. Logically, any intelligent being that could think on the level of a human would abhor the idea of being a familiar, with the exception of ones designed to provide guidance, like Phoenixes. So why were three women who could make any straight wizard walk straight into a wall dressing up in fetishistic maid uniforms and enslaving themselves to a ten-year-old?

All he could deduce was that whatever manner of construct the maids were, they had been made in a very dark ritual, and therefore, they were dark. Whatever motives they had for serving his son, they were suspect. Dumbledore had expressed an interest in turning them to the light, and was going to drag them to an impromptu meeting/interrogation tomorrow, and if they passed would offer to sever their familiar binding to Harry.

He hoped they accepted the offer.

-Break-

At a little past seven, Harry awoke with the girls. Once Illya, Sakura, and the maids were dressed, he Kaleidoscope'd them back to their room. He took the robes he'd brought with him and alchemically dyed the trimming a nice Slytherin green, along with the tie. Once he'd gotten dressed, he brought up a matter with Caster.

"Say, Caster, can I ask you to do something?"

The blue haired witch finished donning her hooded dress before replying, "Of course, Master. I presume it's about that stone you brought back with you last night."

"Yes," he confirmed, "I would like you to take a look at it while we're eating breakfast. It's one of the few items I've found that causes my reality marble to wig out. I figured that since you have A-Rank Mystic Code Crafting, you might be able to figure out what it is."

"Certainly Master, I'll just have to put up some magic circles in here and I'll be able to experiment. I'll inform you when I have the results. You brought it back from your scouting trip to the third floor corridor?"

"Yes. Whatever it is, the Headmaster went through a lot of trouble to defend it. I have no idea what the political backlash of him keeping a Cerberus inside of a school would be, but I fully intend to find out. Perhaps an anonymous tip to the Board of Governors. If this stone is important enough for him to risk administrative probation, I definitely want to find out what it is. Who knows, it might even be useful."

Caster nodded dutifully, and set about drawing several magical circles on the desk in the room with some of the Magecraft supplies from Harry's trunk. Mentally, she was squealing. She'd finally have a chance to show off her magecraft skills! In all honesty, having a True Magician for a Master made her feel a bit inadequate. It was bad enough that he was a better cook than her, but she was determined to impress him with this! She'd find out every minute detail of this giant red rock, even if she had to spend every moment of her time until the end of the year on it!

Seeing her intense and to be quite honest, adorable, look of concentration, Harry turned and stepped out into the hallway. Apparently, he was the first one up as the place was silent. He figured that it was likely due to the fact that it was the first day of the term, everyone was tired, and he was still an hour early for breakfast.

Mentally retracing his steps from when he'd followed the prefect, he made his way down to the Great Hall. Inside, he was only there for a few moments before Sakura, Illya, Leanna, Monica, and Joy came in with him. The Homunculi sat down at the table with him, making a barrier between Illya, Sakura, and the rest of the house. Harry appreciated that, as while he was a near-godly powerhouse, Illya and Sakura were just two better-than-average magi. Sure, they could handle anyone in the school with ease, but that would require them to reveal their magecraft. The maids would be able to intimidate most of the students into leaving the two alone. If not, greater measures could be taken. He'd like to see how untrained children dealt with facing an angry Servant, Berserker certainly had taken a shine to all three of them. Although that might be a bit much, it would certainly make sure that nobody tried to mess with them again.

Sitting at the Slytherin table, he looked up to the teachers' table. The only three professors up there were Severus Snape, who looked incredibly smug about something, Filius Flitwick, who was looking at the maids with a puzzled expression on his face like he was curious about them, but was too polite to ask, and James Potter, who looked incredibly hungover. Harry felt a bit of pleasure at the knowledge that he was likely the cause of what was obviously a night of heavy drinking.

After roughly thirty minutes of polite conversation with the girls, other students and professors began entering the Great Hall, filling it with noise. At the dot of eight o'clock, food filled the tables and breakfast began. Before any of them touched their food, Harry performed a quick structural analysis on it to ensure that it was free of potions and spells. Finding it clean, they began eating as he surveyed the hall, noting students and professors of interest. Draco Malfoy shuffled in, looking particularly haggard, and sat down at the emptiest part of the Gryffindor table. The second his body made contact with the seat, there was a brief 'swish' and his hair turned a fiery red while his robes transfigured into a frilly, Gryffindor-yellow dress.

At his indignant squawk, two redheaded twins on the opposite end of the table exchanged high-fives under the table, something that was missed by the professors due to the angle. He made a note to watch his back, as the two then shot a quick glance and a smirk towards the Slytherin table while McGonagall came down and started trying to undo whatever the twins had done to the boy, while shooting them accusing looks which they pretended not to notice.

Neville seemed to be settled into the house nicely, and was sitting across from Orion and Ron, looking mildly disgusted with the way they were shoveling food like it was their last meal. He was curious as to why the shy boy was associating with the two, but moved on. That Ravenclaw girl that had sat with Orion on the train, Herm-something, was holding a quiet debate with several of her housemates, which she seemed to be winning.

At his own table, Daphne was sitting several seats down and looked to be contemplating something. He was unsure as to what, but he imagined that it had something to do with his minor powerplay and announcement last night. The three boys: Nott, Bragge, and Ivanoff, looked slightly sore and were shooting him vengeful looks. Fortunately, their Slytherin nature would likely keep them from doing anything too public, but in private he'd have to keep an eye out for them.

The Headmaster was sitting up in his big chair, and was staring at him. What thoughts were hidden behind that infuriating twinkle he didn't know, but it put him on edge. The look on James' face made him reschedule his tearful confrontation to A.S.A.P. Fortunately, Lily didn't look quite as confrontational, but was instead shooting her husband angry glares, likely over his late-night drinking.

Snape came around, passing out the class schedules. Upon getting theirs, he, Illya, and Sakura compared them. They all had the same schedule, with Charms first, with the Gryffindors. Sighing at the thought of spending more time with his brother, he quickly finished his food. After finishing his rounds, Snape informed him and the maids that Dumbledore wanted to see the Homunculi alone after the meal. Giving his consent, as he could guess the topic of conversation.

Once the meal was finished, the students stood and filed out of the hall to their respective classes.


	15. Chapter 15: Show of Force

**Welcome back all! Neolyph here again with another chapter for all you beautiful people. I'd also like to announce, 1000 followers! Whoooo! Legit, when I first started this story, I expected it to bomb so hard it was registered as a WMD. You don't understand how much this means to me, so thank you. Now lets aim for 1000 favorites! If I reach that, I'll have to put out a special chapter or a lemon or something. I'll think on it. In honor of my 1000th follower, this chapter has an OMAKE! Written by Xamusel.**

 **Also, in case anyone has missed the announcement, this story now has a forum which can be found here:**

 **forum/A-Broken-Wizard-and-a-Broken-Magus-Discussion-Forum/188670/**

 **or on my profile**

 **Review time!**

 **AbaddontheDevourer: Yeah, midterms are a bitch, but I'm glad I could ease the pain. I think you'll find the meeting as interesting as I do. Would be very interested in reading omakes.**

 **deathstalker982: I'm kind of playing fast and loose with book and movie universes. I've seen and read both, so I just generally write what I remember from them when I think of a particular scene. Other times, I just make shit up.**

 **Lupine Horror: Man, everyone always hates Molly Weasley, but I've always liked her. I will not deny that Assassin is my favorite character to write, which is funny since the whole worshiping Harry thing was something I came up on the spur of the moment as I was writing her summoning.**

 **MWRANDOM: I felt it was the most apt comparison, not ideologically, but methodically. Harry views racism as illogical, but he is essentially going to use Slytherin's poverty to unite them under his banner and turn them into soldiers willing to kill for him.**

 **Mangahero18: Yes, Dumbledore has crippled the Death Eaters, but he has also made himself a feared public figure rather than a beloved one. He now faces opposition from people like Madame Bones, who are light, but believe in a representative system, not a dictatorship of light.**

 **Thundramon: Yes, the pacing is a bit slower because now I'm in familiar territory, and can take my time. I just can't help myself when I write Assassin. I thought about how hentai Devil's Snare seemed and just had to make Assassin go full pervert, as with the mirror. Harry has the stone, but nobody else really knows that, so the plot goes on. Homunculi technically possess artificial souls, which are odd enough that, like with the Servants, the wards don't pick up on them. Other houses might see him as weak, but not Slytherin. They all get the shit kicked out of them by their parents, so it actually warrants a measure of respect and camaraderie. Voldemort knows that one of the Potters is responsible for his death, but not which one, so he believes the media that it is Orion. His memory prior to his death got a bit messed up due to dying while splitting his soul, so he knows that he has another horcrux, but not what it is. James is the DADA teacher, but let's just say Voldemort has a clever plan to get in to the school anyway. I mentioned their jobs briefly in chapter 12. Sirius is pretty much just an unemployed playboy. Draco was sorted into Gryffindor at Dumbledore's orders to the hat, to make the house turn light. He's pretty much the same as in canon, as he doesn't quite understand his father's beliefs. Lucius is a brilliant politician, but adopts a Darwinist approach to child-rearing. If Draco can't make it on his own beliefs and merit, he isn't worthy to succeed the Malfoy family.**

 **Heika: Death Eaters would think Hassan was a muggle and disregard her. Dumbledore's only real defining moment of his childhood was his sister being attacked and crippled by muggles, which might have the opposite effect on Orion in making him hate them. He views Pettigrew as the exception, not the rule. Dumbledore focused entirely on the magical aspect of WWII, and didn't really care how Hitler gained followers, just that Grindlewald was pulling the strings. The displaced purebloods are granted a certain degree of mind magic to use on the landlords so that not too many questions are asked. Assassin might be able to work something out. Don't know how muffliato works. I thought it simply silenced an object? With D.O.N, the two terms are virtually interchangeable. Bit too late for the A.I. Harry wants smart armor. As far as F.S.N is concerned, Gaia is one of the only true remaining gods, and she could kick Harry's ass.**

 **Have a Little Feith: Thanks for the offer, but Arawn is coming back this week I think, and will be available to beta more. I will keep you in mind though if he's ever in a position where he can't beta.**

 **PhaseHand: Dumbledore has a reason for acting how he does, and that is all I will say on the subject.**

 **BBWulf: I just couldn't stop thinking about how hentai Devil's Snare sounded, and then thought about what Assassin would desire most. Giggles ensued.**

 **Zathol: The Einzbern maids are essentially his "Army-in-a-Can" that he's going to bust out should he ever need to preform a hostile takeover.**

 **Joe Lawyer: Harry hasn't taken that step because he lacks the biological capability or urges to do so. Around Prisoner of Azkaban, you will likely see that change.**

 **harlequin320: Precisely. Harry is now in a perfect position to create a shadow organization to start pulling strings.**

 **Ashzaroth: Time of the various years may vary, depending on what I want to write. I don't want to portray any characters in this story as completely stupid, except for ones that are portrayed that way in canon, and are children. After all, some kids are really just irritating little shits.**

 **Anomamon: I've always subscribed to "Show, don't tell." I generally try to write out a scene rather than write exposition. Perhaps this leads to needless length or wording, but it doesn't take much time, and I enjoy it.**

Chapter 15: Show of Force

As Harry, Sakura, Illya, and the triplets walked from the Great Hall to Charms class, guided by Harry's memories of the school from Voldemort, they were followed by the majority of the first year Slytherins, who seemed to have realized that he knew where he was going. They were kept back slightly by the maids, who formed a barrier between the girls and the rest of the house, as was their duty. The first year Gryffindors, who had apparently already been brainwashed by their older housemates, refused to believe that the "dirty snakes" knew where they were going and had gone off to find their own path. Harry had nearly snickered as he watched them go down a corridor that led to the dungeons. While he could understand them being prideful, it was clear that in addition they weren't the cleverest bunch, since just swallowing their pride and following their group at a distance would have saved them a lot of time. Still, if they wanted to humiliate themselves because of a silly notion like pride, it was their call.

After a few minutes of walking through confusing hallways, he and the rest of the house found themselves at Professor Flitwick's classroom. Entering, they found themselves in a nicely sized and decorated room, with the Ravenclaw Head sitting at his desk and reading a book on dueling. At the sound of the door, he looked up and seemed startled at their appearance. He pulled out his pocket watch, looked at the time, looked at the students, looked back at his watch, before finally finding his voice. Obviously it was highly unusual for new students to find his classroom so fast, which just served to point how moronic wizards were. Had _nobody_ ever had the simple common sense of asking an older student to show them the way?

"First years here on the first day, and fifteen minutes early? That's the earliest I've ever had. I'm impressed..." at this he paused for a moment, before making up his mind, "Take fifteen points for Slytherin. One for every minute early. Now where are the Gryffindors?"

At this, Harry shrugged, drawing the professor's eye towards himself and the maids standing impassively behind him. As at breakfast, he seemed to want to ask about them, but his politeness prevented him from doing so, at least publicly. The man really was a good choice to lead Ravenclaw: curious, but polite about it.

"They didn't seem to believe that we knew where we were going. I tried to convince them otherwise," he lied through his teeth, "but last I saw, they were headed towards the dungeons."

The Charms Professor sighed. It was clear that he understood what Harry was trying to say. The clear animosity between the House of Lions and the House of the Snakes was something that bothered more than a few teachers, or so he had heard, yet nothing was done to curb it. In fact, Dumbledore seemed perfectly content to subtly encourage it, allowing the Gryffindors to get away with far more than the Slytherins, which only served to fuel the shared hatred for each other.

"That's to be expected. First year Gryffindors usually don't show up on time for any classed in the first week. We'll wait until ten minutes after class starts and if they're not here yet, we'll start without them. Until then, please take your seats."

Given permission, the students all filled out the seats on the right-hand side of the classroom. Harry and the girls sat in the very back of the university-style seats. With Sakura on his right and Illya on his left, he removed a book from his robes and began reading it silently. Sakura pulled out her wand and began fiddling with it curiously, eager to try out wizard magic. He'd offered to teach her some spells prior to coming here, but she refused, stating that she wanted to learn in a classroom environment. That had surprised him, as she would usually have jumped at the opportunity to spend some time alone with him, but he guessed that she could always ask later.

The homunculi stood submissively at the back wall, mentally communicating that if Dumbledore was to interrogate them, it would be best to put on a subservient front, so that he would not view them as a threat. While they could probably neutralize the Headmaster easily if it ever came down to it, it would undoubtedly alienate them to the entire British magical community, as they all seemed to believe the Sun shined from the man's behind. Even the diehard Death Eaters had a grudging respect for him, as he had the power and the cunning required to establish himself as a major power not only in Britain, but on the international scene. So it was in their best interest to appear as non-threatening as possible, as too much scrutiny would not end well for either them or Dumbledore.

Agreeing with them, he turned back to his book on the Gandr Curse. He could use the curse just fine, but he was trying to figure out why Sakura and Rin could perform the spell better than him. He suspected that it was something genetic, as the two were sisters, or maybe it had something to do with their Origin and Element, although that notion was flimsy at best, as they had different Origins and Elements. The spell was _very_ useful, particularly at higher levels, and he wanted to perfect it. While usually not that dangerous, with the amount of power he could push into it, he would likely be able to punch holes through the Great Hall's doors.

On the edge of his consciousness, he heard a small 'fuuuuuu' noise growing slightly in volume, coming from his left. He glanced over and saw Illya with cheeks puffed and pouting, looking on the verge of a tantrum as she emitted her noise of unhappiness. Evidently, she had neglected to bring a book to entertain herself and was very unhappy about it. She was not the most patient person when it came to anything other than magecraft research, since she had been rather spoiled ever since she had become Berserker's Master. She was not used to sit idly, so he needed to find something to distract her with before she started throwing a tantrum.

Not wanting his younger sister to get upset, he put his hand under the table and projected a book he'd read on fairy tales. Adorable little psychopath she may be, but deep down Illya was still a little girl. She snatched the book up happily and began digging into it.

Crisis averted.

His consciousness was dragged away from his book again by a feeling of growing frustration over his mental link. He went through the links one by one to identify the source. The maids were fine, content to observe and watch over both him and the girls. Berserker maintained his ever-present, furious, and generous offers to slaughter every living thing in a fifty miles' radius from the dandelions on upwards. Archer was making sarcastic commentary that he had long learned to simply block out at this point. Rider was expressing minor irritation at her inability to freely interact with him as she used to, but was more miffed about it than frustrated. She satisfied herself by reading his book over his shoulder. Saber was in her Servant mindset, and was simply standing behind him, watching the class warily. Assassin was at his other shoulder, mentally devising plans to kill everyone in the room in case she needed to protect him. He supposed that everyone had their hobbies.

Finally, he checked the link to Caster and found her to be the source of the overlapping frustration.

 _"Caster,"_ he mentally communicated, _"is something wrong?"_

As soon as he said this, the feeling from her snapped off, as if she had caught herself doing something embarrassing.

" _Nothing Master, nothing at all. Why do you ask?"_ came her hurried response.

" _Come on Caster, you know you can tell me,"_ he prodded. He felt her waver slightly, before giving in.

" _I can't figure out this stone Master. I've never seen anything quite like it. I can gather its general concept, but not its usage. As best as I can tell, it's formed from pure, refined souls. It has enough raw energy in it to power a Servant for a couple of decades if they were conservative with it, but the strange thing is that it seems to refill itself. Were it not a foreign concept to this world, I would suspect it to be some hybridization of the first and third magics."_

 _"Are you serious?"_ he couldn't help but ask. The sheer idea of a wizard having developed such a powerful mystic code was mind-boggling. The fact that someone had found what was usually a magus technique of harvesting souls and storing them in object as a power source rather than a shoddy attempt at immortality was as interesting as it was concerning. It was times like these that made his really wish that he could master his link to the Akashic record. If he could find out what this stone was or who made it, his job would be much simpler. Unfortunately, unless he wanted to learn more about some entirely random subject, he'd have to do this the old-fashioned way.

 _"Keep working, Caster. I'd say don't strain yourself, but you're such a talented magus that I don't think you could if you tried,"_ he said, feeling the brief rush of happiness that his words elicited from the witch.

 _"Of course not Master. I'll inform you immediately if - no when I make further discoveries."_

With that, she cut off the mental link and resumed her work. Harry looked back up just in time to see a very cross and out of breath Neville Longbottom storm into the room. Looking up at the clock revealed that the boy was only thirty seconds from being Flitwick looked up from his book with a look of surprise.

"A Gryffindor on time for his first class, well I suppose it's true what they say about broken clocks," he muttered under his breath, "Your name, young man?"

"Neville Longbottom, sir," the red-faced boy gasped between breaths.

"And might I ask why you are the only one of your house to be on time for this class?" the professor continued. Neville took a moment to get his breathing under control before answering.

"I realized that nobody had any clue where they were going and were just following Orion, so I asked a ghost for directions and ran for it. Almost missed the stairs."

Flitwick sighed in exasperation at the house of the brave.

"Well, take five points for an intelligent solution to a problem. When did you last see your house? I may need to send someone after them again."

Neville grimaced before admitting sheepishly.

"Last I saw them, they were pretty deep in the dungeons, but I don't know exactly where. When I realized that class was fifteen minutes from starting and Orion had no idea where he was going, I tried to convince everyone to ask for directions, but Orion just said that he knew what he was doing and they followed him. When I ran off, I didn't pay too much attention to the route back."

Flitwick just nodded and sighed again.

"I'll inform the Headmaster and he'll send some ghosts to track them down. Congratulations Neville, was it? You'll be the only one in your house to attend this lesson. I'm not going to reteach this today's class, so if anyone else in Gryffindor wants to learn it, they'll have to ask you."

Neville suddenly looked a bit afraid at the prospect of his entire house asking him for help, but steeled himself and took a seat next to Illya. Harry glanced over at him and gave an encouraging smile and a nod. It had the desired effect as the nervous boy straightened his back and faced towards Flitwick, who, after sending a Patronus to the Headmaster, began the lesson.

"Alright class, welcome to Charms. I think it would be nice to begin with a practical lesson, so you'll be learning your first spell ever right here. Now, the incantation is _Wingardium Leviosa."_

-Break-

After Charms, Harry was surprised when Neville walked up to him briskly, pausing as the maids blocked his way. Harry mentally told them to stand down and they parted to allow the boy passage, although they were clearly ready if they ever needed to intervene. Neville gave them one last wary glance before walking up to Harry. The two looked at each other for a while, before the usually shy Gryffindor finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Uhh, Harry, Illya, Sakura... I... I think I owe you three an apology. I know that we were friendly on the train and I wanted to be friends, but I got cold feet when you got sorted into Slytherin. I...assumed the worst and that you being nice to me was just some way to trick me into something. It was why I tried befriending your brother Harry, but all he does is spout on about how evil and dark you're going to be, and it made me think. I don't want to be like him, judging people off a sorting alone. I mean, he's known you for only a day, it can't be enough to know much about you, and being Sorted in a House doesn't mean everything. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for not talking to the three of you since the sorting, and if you'll accept it, I'd like to be your friend."

Impressed at the boy's candor, Harry considered it for a moment.

" _You should befriend the boy, Master,"_ came Saber's gentle voice in his head. He intended to accept Neville's offer anyway, but was curious as to his usually quiet Servant's reasoning.

" _Why is that, Saber?"_

 _"I recruited many knights in my life. I know certain qualities when I see them, and this boy possesses all the virtues of Gryffindor. He's chivalrous, brave, and loyal. He will be a good friend. Not to mention, he obviously questions the system around him when many others do not._ _All he needs is someone to help him get some confidence, and he will become a fine young man, of that I am sure._ _"_

 _"I concur,"_ he told Saber.

Having agreed with his Servant, he extended his hand towards Neville.

"I don't mind that you made a harmless mistake. So long as you keep an open mind about the three of us."

Neville looked down at the hand a moment, before straightening himself out and grasping it firmly.

"That's perfectly alright. Now I have history of magic next, but then we have herbology together. You want to meet up there?"

"Sure Neville. See you there."

The two boys exchanged nods while the two girls waved at him, causing him to blush slightly in embarrassment. The maids gave him nods of their own and followed their charge to Transfiguration.

-Break-

Transfiguration was mostly uneventful, with the exception of making the acquaintance of one Hermione Granger from Ravenclaw. McGonagall had made them partner up to master their first transfiguration, a matchstick into a needle.

Hermione seemed fairly agreeable, though she kept incessantly uttering questions throughout the class, some of which were borderline intrusive. Her questions ranged from his experience with magic to his maids, which she seemed to disapprove of, despite the subject being absolutely none of her business, but he guessed she was just a very opinionated person. He answered these questions as best he could, except when she strayed into too personal areas. When that happened, he gently reminded her that while curiosity was a valuable trait, it was best tempered with respect and politeness. She looked a bit abashed, and apologized. Sakura and Illya seemed to like the bushy-haired girl well enough, though they still shot her suspicious glares when she wasn't looking. He almost pitied the Ravenclaw, both Magi girls were very possessive of him, and were not going to be very open to her until they had deemed she was not a threat.

McGonagall had tried to have the three homunculi removed from the class, pointing out that they were distracting the other students, but he'd countered by citing the Hogwarts charter, which forbid the separation of Master and Familiar, except in cases where a unanimous vote from the Board of Directors declared that the familiar presented a present danger to the Hogwarts students, and that the Master was incapable of controlling them. Thus far, the only time that had ever been enacted had been in 1243, when a student's bear familiar had mauled three students before the student could bring it back under control.

When her prudish attempt had failed, she'd asked the girls directly if they were here against their will. Offended at the notion, they'd coldly informed her that they were perfectly alright, and that it was none of her business. Shut down, she returned to teaching her class, only turning once in a while to glare at both him and the maids, obviously displeased with what she saw as both a lack of respect, and something distasteful. It was easy to see that she disapproved of him having three "human" familiars, and that it was not the last time she would be trying to push her opinion on them, since she believed that she "knew better".

He found that she was a fair instructor, just rather opinionated, prudish, and biased against Slytherin. In her defense, she had given him five points when he was the first in the class to manage the transfiguration. He'd already seen her take twenty points from Orion for refusing to admit that he was lost and causing his house to miss one and a half classes. He figured that through careful and slow manipulation, he'd be able to win her over to at least amiable terms. All he'd have to do would be to make some public display of Gryffindorism to make her think that perhaps he'd been sorted wrong. After all, the Hat had been wrong before. Besides, it was hardly a secret that his "parents" had been two of her favorite students, and that the right actions would have her eating in the palm of his hand.

The class itself was interesting enough. Tom Riddle was a wizard rivaled only by Dumbledore, so he knew all of the information anyway; but he figured that if he was new to wizardry, he'd have enjoyed the class. Instead, he paid attention just enough to be aware of what was going on. The rest of the time, he coordinated with Caster to work out the nature of the stone he'd stolen.

The trouble was that the stone was far too advanced for any known wizarding technique. If a magus had made it, it would have been understandable, as certain alchemical processes could make something to this degree, but those techniques required the control and power granted by an array of magical circuits. If only he could figure out who had made this stone, then he could work from there, but all of the staff had too advanced Occlumency for him to slip in undetected and pry the information out.

" _Except Hagrid,"_ Caster chimed in suggestively. Now that was something to consider. According to Zelretch, Hagrid had been the one to deliver him from his parents to the Dursleys. The Headmaster obviously trusted him, and the man didn't possess the mental discipline for Occlumency. Perhaps some subtle questioning or Legilimency would yield the desired answers. He didn't think that the half-giant would know too much information about the stone itself - Root, he didn't think even Dumbledore knew the stone's true nature - but perhaps he'd be able to at least tell themwhere the old man had gotten it. At this point any lead would be helpful.

With their spell mastered, he and Hermione made polite conversation for the rest of the class. He asked her about her family, and learned that she came from a family of dentists, who were _very_ shocked to learn that their bookish daughter was a witch. It had taken Professor McGonagall briefly transfiguring their mother into a rabbit to convince them that she wasn't some kind of elaborate con-artist.

In turn, he shared some of the more amusing and less revealing stories of his childhood with Sakura. He didn't mention things like magi or the Grail War, though he did share details like their abduction by Zouken. She expressed pity and nearly wept at certain parts, like learning that they had been painfully experimented on. At one point, she abruptly hugged both himself and Sakura, prompting a scolding from McGonagall. This girl wore her emotions on her sleeve too much to fit into Slytherin, Harry concluded. Still, she was a nice and intelligent girl. With a couple of lessons in the norms of Wizarding society, she'd make a brilliant witch. Her only real problem was her lack of knowledge on how wizards as a whole interacted, as well as her very strong headed nature.

Finally, the period ended, and with a promise for the four to meet up again later, Hermione went to her next class.

-Break-

In the next class, Herbology, Harry, Sakura, and Illya met up with Neville again. Apparently, Orion's journey to the center of the dungeons and subsequent loss of points had not won him many supporters in his house. His reputation as the Ponce-Who-Lived was still carrying his popularity in the house, but he was sliding downhill, fast. Just the thought of Orion becoming a loser in his own house nearly brought a smile to his face, which he quickly repressed.

In the actual class itself, he learned the Professor Sprout was an extremely cheery and pleasant woman, who reminded him somewhat of Mrs. Weasley. She began by telling them that while not necessary, teamwork would help in this class to make things more efficient. Evidently, her Hufflepuff nature of friendship, loyalty, and honesty carried over into her teaching method. Taking her advice to heart, he formed a group of himself, Sakura, Illya, Neville, and Daphne Greengrass. The blonde girl seemed a bit wary of partnering with a scion of a known light family, but seemed to trust Harry's judgement, or just wanted to see if he knew how to pick good friends and supporters. When Neville ignored the typical prejudice Gryffindors possessed for Slytherins and introduced himself warmly, she seemed to once again approve of Harry and introduced herself.

Professor Sprout seemed pleased that a large, interhouse team had formed, even though only one Gryffindor was in it, and awarded both houses five points. Immediately after, however, the points from the house of lions were lost when Orion and Draco got into a shouting match, which devolved into a fistfight. While Orion and Draco were fighting, Ron was getting pummeled by Draco's two vassalized thugs, Crabbe and Goyle. Honestly, the two looked better suited for trolls than students. After breaking it up, a very cross Sprout deducted ten points each from them and assigned them detentions with herself.

At this, Draco had loudly threatened to inform his father of this development, only to be instantly shot down by Sprout, who told him that points loss and detention were the _minimum_ punishment for a physical confrontation on Hogwarts grounds, and that he was only getting off that easy because it was a first offense. Orion had sneered at Draco's humiliation, only for the irate professor to whirl on him and mention that _his_ father _would_ be informed of this, and verbally wondered as to his reaction that his son had lost his house _thirty_ points today, and that it wasn't even lunch.

Harry's twin had spluttered, before countering that the Headmaster was on his side, and wouldn't let him get detentions and would invalidate the lost points. The collected students shivered as the room seemed to drop a couple of degrees to emphasize the glare the plump professor shot Orion. Apparently, Professor Sprout was not one to be crossed idly. After keeping the glare on the now shaking Orion for a full thirty seconds, she snapped at him to go report to the Headmaster, sending a Patronus to both inform Dumbledore as to the situation and lead him there.

With the interruption gone, Sprout apologized for all of the unpleasantness and resumed teaching as if nothing had happened. Slowly, the class got back on track, but none of them forgot the fear that an angry Professor Sprout had engendered in them. Except Harry, Illya, and Sakura, that is. After a Grail War, there was very little that could truly shake you after all. Heck, Berserker was scarier just by _breathing_.

-Break-

After Herbology came lunch. As Harry, the girls, Daphne, and Neville made their way to the Great Hall, Professor Flitwick caught up with them. He delivered a missive from the Headmaster, requesting a meeting with Harry's familiars. After a brief mental conversation, the triplets followed the diminutive professor to Dumbledore's office. He made sure to keep in constant communication with them, not trusting the Headmaster to not try something. Due to their nature as homunculi, they were all but immune to wizard spells, but it never hurt to be safe.

He felt Sakura and Illya draw closer, each taking an arm as the protection afforded by their homunculi bodyguards was stripped. Keeping them close, the group went to eat lunch. Inside the Great Hall, they all sat at the Slytherin table, drawing eyes both from Harry's housemates and some glares from Orion and Ron at Neville's 'betrayal'. Neville studiously ignored them and started up a conversation about Herbology, which was his favorite subject. Apparently, his family owned an expensive greenhouse, which he managed. He was hoping that his knowledge of plants would give him a leg up in Potions, as he'd heard horror stories of Professor Snape's distaste for Gryffindor and his no-nonsense teaching style.

Harry assured him that Snape wasn't hateful, only strict. This seemed to calm the boy down a bit, as he visibly relaxed. While the quickly forming friendship conversed, Harry monitored the meeting between the maids and Dumbledore.

-Break-

Leanna, Monica, and Joy were slightly apprehensive as they followed the half-goblin professor to meet the Headmaster. The last thing they wanted to do was draw suspicion to their Master, and it was only his comforting presence in their minds that permitted them to remain calm. Monica could handle herself well enough, but Joy still suffered from near-crippling social anxiety whenever Harry wasn't around and Leanna didn't trust herself to not blurt out something vital.

Arriving at the Headmaster's gargoyle, Flitwick said the password, 'Lemon Drops', and they marched up the winding staircase that emerged. They found themselves in a spacious, tastelessly decorated, and cluttered office.

"Well, this is where I leave you," said the professor that led them there, before he nodded and exited through the same staircase.

The maids exchanged a glance, before standing side-by-side and walking in perfect unison up to the ornate desk situated in a large alcove at the top of a small set of stairs inside the expansive office. As they came into view of the desk, they witnessed the Headmaster's bearded visage looking grandfatherly as always, flanked by Snape and James, both of whom looked nonplussed at being in proximity with each other.

"Ahh," the Headmaster said as if he'd just noticed them, "Welcome you three. Please, have a seat." With a quick wave of his Elder Wand, three seats appeared out of thin air before his desk. A brief flash of structural analysis revealed that the seats were practically coated with trust charms. It was no doubt Dumbledore's attempt to overcome their magical resistance.

With a look of reproach, Monica replied, "If it's all the same to you, Headmaster, we'd prefer to stand."

The twinkle in the old man's eyes briefly dulled and hardened, before returning to its former glory.

"Well, if you insist. Now, I'm going to get right to the point. As best I understand it, the three of you are fully sentient magical constructs with free will, but are bound to young Harry, correct?"

"Voluntarily bound," Monica clarified, "but other than that, yes."

"May I ask precisely why three obviously intelligent women have reduced themselves to a boy's servants?"

"I think you misunderstand the mindset that comes with being a magical construct. We were created to protect Master Harry and assist him in managing his... unique magical core. It is our calling in life and greatest aspiration. It is literally our reason for being. If you had been born and possessed an instinctual knowledge that you were made to be the Headmaster of a school, would you question it?"

Dumbledore looked perplexed, but nodded.

"That being said," Monica continued, and the three suddenly shifted into a much more intimidating and threatening stance, "I would remind you that our prime directive is Master Harry's protection. If you or anyone else in this school act against his best interests, there will be _repercussions_ ," she hissed out. James fingered his wand inside his robes while Snape just looked on, amused. Dumbledore put his hands up in an attempt to appease them.

"I assure you that everything I do is in the interest of the Greater Good."

The maids noted the evasion, but didn't comment. The man may think he was skilled at word games, but he was only a beginner compared to the Clock Tower's Magi, who _breathed_ those kind of games from the moment they were old enough to speak. And one did not become a Magi without a clear understanding of every subtle nuance of speech.

"Now, as the Leader of Light, I'm afraid I'm obliged to ask. Exactly what manner of magical construct are you three?"

This they knew how to answer. They could absolutely not tell him they were Homonculi, as unlike Magi, wizards' Homonculi were created through extremely cruel rituals, and were more often than not ugly parodies of human beings. The moment the Headmaster was aware of their nature, he would use it to portray their Master as the next Dark Lord, despite nothing "Dark" being involved in their creation. They knew, Harry had explained everything to them, just so to show them that their life didn't come from the sacrifice of a child or any other living being.

"We don't exactly know. When we were created, we were ingrained with certain information, but we weren't given the details of our precise nature. Zouken simply made us and then passed us off to Harry."

Dumbledore nodded sagely, "I understand. I suppose that the only remaining question is whether you would like me to fix you. Evidently, that Zouken fellow toyed with your minds to force you into obedience. If you so wish, I can undo what he has done and free you from your servitude. You three can be free to pursue your own lives and careers. If you even wish, I can even arrange for you to receive jobs here."

"I'm afraid we'll have to decline your generous offer," Monica replied, barely restraining herself from lashing out at this man who wished to separate her from her Master, from Harry. Looking aggrieved, Dumbledore slowly stood. James drew his wand and took a ready stance.

"Then I fear that you leave me no choice. I can't have the brother of the future Leader of the Light keeping three women as slaves. Whatever foul magic that Zouken used is influencing your thinking. You'll thank me after this is over." He drew his own Elder Wand, aiming it at Monica, a stunning spell on his lips.

In a flash that betrayed their prowess as physical-combat model homunculi, Leanna and Joy lashed out with their batons. Within a second, James and Snape found themselves painfully pinned against the wall, completely disarmed. Dumbledore's own casting was interrupted when a metal staff beamed him upside the head, stunning him. His barely-coherent senses were further upset when this woman, with her bare hand, levitated him and slammed him against the ceiling.

"Let me make our position a bit clearer," Monica _growled, "_ we will continue our service to Master Harry, and you will do nothing to interfere with it. We will treat any attempt to separate us from him as an attack on his person. He is the kindest person I've ever met, and I have no desire to be apart from him. As I think we've demonstrated amicably here, you do _not_ want to be the subject of our ire. Ensure that you are not."

Their piece said and the faculty sufficiently threatened, the maids dropped the three, though they weren't exactly what one would call 'gentle' about it. Not desiring a hex in the back, Monica collected their wands and dropped them out the nearby window.

None too worse for the wear, the three departed from the Headmaster's office to join their creator for lunch.

-Break-

Harry had difficulty keeping a straight face as Monica mentally relayed an image of the Headmaster's shocked face as he was pinned against the ceiling. That image alone made him consider purchasing a penseive, just so he could watch the memory over and over again, perhaps make watching it a Christmas tradition with Sakura and Illya or something. He was sure both of them would like such a tradition very much.

He figured that some of the subtlety had been lost by the maids' show of force, but first of all, the security of the maids' position at his side outweighed keeping Dumbledore in the dark about their power, and second, as magical constructs their strength was within the realm of possibilities as far as wizards were concerned. Checking his schedule, he was pleased to learn that he had Potions right after lunch. He regretted having the maids rough-up Professor Snape, but it would have aroused suspicion regarding their alliance if he hadn't been.

Potions with Orion, himself, and Snape in the same room.

This would be fun.

-Break-

As young Harry's three 'maids' left the room, Dumbledore fell from the ceiling and landed roughly against his desk, scattering the papers on it. He looked up just in time to see his wand, the precious Elder Wand, dropped out the window. He scrambled up, ignoring the pained moans of James and Severus, and ran to the window. Fortunately, despite the 150 meters drop, the wand seemed to be intact. He attempted a wandless _Accio,_ but lacked the power to do it at this distance.

As he thought back on the meeting, depression welled up inside him. It was worse than he had feared. Those _things_ were not only dark creatures, but _powerful_ dark creatures. The had attacked him, _him_ , the Leader of the Light! In his own office! He would have to deal with those three somehow. Perhaps... perhaps if the maids would not abandon the boy, he could make the boy abandon the maids. It could be his first step towards coming to the light! It was brilliant! He just prayed that those three _creatures_ didn't discover his intentions until after the fact. Any magical creature with enough power to levitate a grown wizard against a ceiling _without a wand_ was a creature not idly trifled with. At least his possession of these constructs proved that young Harry had followed in Tom Riddle's footsteps. Merlin, if anything, he'd surpassed Riddle at this age. Intervention would have to come earlier than anticipated.

The Potter boys just kept causing problems since they came to this school. Orion had been in his office earlier, having lost forty points from his house and received a detention. Now obviously, the Leader of the Light couldn't lose points for his house, as it would make them resent him. The Gryffindors were the house of the Light, and Orion would need their support in the future. Detentions at Hogwarts showed up on a student's permanent record, so Orion couldn't receive any of those either. For those reasons, he'd used his administrative powers to give the points back, plus ten, and waive the detentions. Sure, some students from the other houses might be a bit bitter about it, but it was all for the Greater Good. After all, he was Albus Dumbledore. How could it not?

"Ugghhhh," came James, "did any of you guys get the model of the bludger that hit me?"

Omake by Xamusel

DM Omake 01: I challenged you to a Wizard's Duel, not a Children's Card Game!

#

Orion Potter, while marching down the corridor to Potions class, was absolutely livid... again, for more than the third month straight, all to the week before Christmas holidays. It was a humongous surprise to those who knew him that he was able to keep it all simmering well below a boil, but it was also a huge concern to his parents and little sister, the former having raised him with love to make sure he wasn't neglected in any way, shape or form, and the latter because she didn't want him to be mad at the exact person he was livid about... and they were all related to him.

Hadrian had managed to outdo him in everything that he had done so far, even making it to being Slytherin's Seeker in Quidditch! They were the same age, and yet it was Hadrian who managed to become the Youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in over 100 years! Of course, having been raised as a Noble Wizard, he knew better than to let this get to him. Hadrian was going to be disinherited from House Potter soon enough, anyway, if things managed to go in his favor. He just needed a valid excuse for a Wizard's Duel, where the stakes were set at the beginning of the duel, before he could initiate th—

All of a sudden, Orion crashed into someone while rounding the corner, knocking both of them down to the floor.

Orion, being the idiot he is, automatically assumed that the person who he collided with was a guy, even though his eyes were closed in pain. "Ow! Watch it, you bloody git!" he yelled, getting everyone's attention to see who he ran into, even when it was clear that the other person had his head in a book and wore glasses, which now lay broken on the ground, for one reason or another. The person's personal maids were also... about... to... everyone else gulped in shock and horror.

Orion opened his eyes wide at that. He just ran into his older twin! Of all the possible... he didn't mean to run into him literally! If that wasn't bad enough, he was about to be killed by the maids... wait, that's it!

"Oi, what's the big idea, Orion?" Hadrian, holding an arm outstretched for some reason, questioned his little brother in annoyance. "Don't you know that Potions is somewhere back the way—"

"Hadrian Potter, I challenge you to a Duel!" Orion yelled in interruption, pointing an outstretched finger at him without his wand.

#

Harry was annoyed by the rude interruption from reading his book on engineering that he managed to acquire from an acquaintance of his for a short time. Of course, said acquaintance was from an alternate Japan, but it wasn't like the Wizards in this Magical Britain were able to put that together. Still, his interruption was due to the fact that he ran into someone quite by accident, even if it seemed that the other person was going faster than normal.

When he felt the danger the other person was going to be in, he was about to call off his maids with a verbal command when he heard the other person yell, "Ow! Watch it, you bloody git!"

That had the undesired effect of him recognizing who he had run into... his little brother from his birth family. Of course, it seemed like the crowd that had gathered also put two and two together, as they gulped in horror and shock. Noticing that his maids were going to kill the idiot for hurting Harry, he stretched his hand out to prevent them from doing so, causing them to stop. "Oi, what's the big idea, Orion?" he questioned in annoyance. "Don't you know that Potions is somewhere back the way—"

"Hadrian Potter, I challenge you to a Duel!" Orion interrupted him, pointing an outstretched finger at him.

Harry was silent for a few seconds, before he chuckled at his brother.

"Wh-what? What's so funny?!" Orion demanded.

"I just didn't expect you to know the correct pass phrase for playing Duel Monsters, little brother," Harry answered, pulling out a deck of cards with brown backgrounds and black ovals on the back from a card holder on his left leg. "It's all the rage in the gaming circles, after all." What went unsaid was that the game was all the rage in the Muggle gaming circles, but Harry didn't want to ruin the surprise for the other students of Hogwarts, or those who didn't know him nearly as well as his true family. "Very well, I accept your challenge, although the Duel will have to happen on Christmas Eve in Japan," he said, pocketing the cards in the card holder.

"Wha... wait a—" Orion started to yell, before Harry pulled out a few boxes of what he assumed to be cards.

"Make sure to read the rules of the game, on the off-chance you don't actually know the game all that well," Harry said, handing him the boxes of cards. "Also, play a few dozen games with your housemates, to make sure you know how the game works as you read the rules for these games." With that, Harry picked up his book and the remains of his glasses, before walking on down the hall to class.

#

Orion was thoroughly confused with what he had witnessed. Before he could go after Hadrian, he decided to look at the boxes to see what the fuss was about. While the images of the different playing cards was nice, he didn't quite get what the deal was with the 6 rating on it... wait, hold on, that was the minimum age rating!

Putting the cards in his bag, he then rushed over to class, beating Professor Snape inside and exclaiming, "HADRIAN! I challenged you to a Wizard's Duel, not a Children's Card Game!"


	16. Chapter 16: Potions and Scheming

**Bow before me peasants, for I am a generous god. I , Neolyph, writer of tales and harbinger of harems, bring you another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. Sorry about the shortness of last chapter. I just got a job and was having trouble adjusting to the new schedule, so I didn't have much time to write. I'll still try to at least bust out a chapter a week though. I love all of you for the support this story is getting, which has blown all of my expectations. Not much else to say, so review time.**

 **BBWulf: I wanted at least a minor show of force, though indirect on Harry's part. Also, Dumbledore has a reason to feel an aura of invincibility. I'll leave you to ponder that.**

 **AnimeA55Kicker: That is actually one of the jokes I was considering. Stop stealing my ideas damn it.**

 **FuZzvKiNgZz: A tad cliche, but I hope to at least put a minor twist on it. I wanted to portray a competent Dumbledore more along the lines of a chess master, or at least he thinks he is.**

 **PhaseHand: The stone made of souls thing is from Full Metal Alchemist. It will make more sense later in the story.**

 **Raidentensho: Dumbledore retains mastery of the Elder Wand. Due to the maids not possessing souls, the Wizarding magical system is incapable of recognizing them as living beings. As far as magic was concerned, Dumbledore being disarmed by Monica would be the same as if he walked into a door and dropped it. The door wouldn't become the new master, because it isn't alive.**

 **Im a guest: Yu-Gi-Oh, actually.**

 **harmless review: Jesus, I was like a day later than usual on last chapter. I have no intentions of abandoning this story, even if I have to for some reason slow updates.**

 **Akuma-Heika: Purebloods don't have a religion, so they don't give a shit about the child of a supposed god. There are plenty of legends of immortals and gods, but very few of them were actually wizards, and Hassan wasn't. They wouldn't believe in any "miracles" some hyped up muggle could supposedly preform. Gaia isn't TYPE Earth, she** _ **is**_ **Earth. Just like Dead Apostles are TYPE Moon, but Crimson Moon Brunestud** _ **is**_ **the moon. She is the very will of the planet to survive manifested, which makes her the closest thing to a literal god, next to Alaya. Harry is limited in his use of magecraft by his general inexperience with it. He is a fair hand at it, but he's still an apprentice. Zelretch is still covering his lessons. I still have it up in the air, but I'd like to wait until Harry is at least thirteen before anything gets too sexual. That's kind of my cutoff for creepiness. Maybe I'll poll it and have him alchemically speed along the process or something. J.K Rowling said at some point that the hat had made seven incorrect sortings in its history, one of which was sorting Snape into Slytherin. The hat is just essentially a mind-reading personality test. It is capable of a misjudgment. Yes, everyone in the fight lost ten points. I don't really consider it canon, but at the end of the Deathly Hallows movie Harry just snaps the wand over his knee and tosses it off a cliff.**

 **kewllek: Saber is using Avalon as her sheath. Harry has a copies stored in himself and everyone close to him.**

 **Thundramon: I think I made the comparison some number of chapters ago, but here you go. In a straight-up fight between a Clock Tower Researcher and a determined Auror, the Auror would win. If the Auror hesitated though, the magus would win through sheer ruthlessness and brutality. An Enforcer though could kick an Auror's ass. It was a nice little joke in canon to introduce new characters, but I never understood how Voldemort possessed the power to literally curse** _ **concepts**_ **, and didn't use it for anything else. No curse on the DADA position. Monica isn't recognized by magic as a combatant, so her disarming Dumbledore didn't register.**

 **TheDisturbedDragon: Precisely. Any magus could talk circles around a wizard. Confrontation is coming this chapter. Wasn't time for it before.**

Chapter 16: Potions and Scheming

Harry's first sight upon walking into the smoky classroom was Professor Snape sitting at his desk in the front of the room, sporting several bruises. Immediately, their eyes met and he shot the boy and maids a rueful glare. Clearly he had not appreciated being manhandled, even if it was necessary, or perhaps he had not expected the homunculi's strength. In any case, he was clearly displeased with his current state, which was something Harry could understand, so he countered the glare with a sheepish grin of apology. Snapping his eyes to the rest of Slytherin, who had once again followed their only housemate who seemed to know where he was going, Snape stood to address the class.

"Take a seat class. It doesn't matter where, as I'll break you up into partners shortly anyway," he barked gruffly, though not as gruff as he usually was with the other houses. While he clearly disliked teaching ignorant children, at the very least he tried to curb his bitterness and avoid showing it to his own House.

"Now," he continued, "can anyone answer what seems to be the most common question of the day and tell me where the Gryffindors are? I do sincerely hope that they haven't gotten... _lost_ ," he finished with absolutely no sincerity and a sneer of malice. Right as he finished speaking, the door opened again to reveal the Gryffindor class, sans Orion and Ron, being led by a ghost. A quick check of the time revealed that they had just barely made it on time.

Snape's sneer dropped at losing his chance to discipline his least favorite house, before he noticed that Orion wasn't amongst them and it returned in full force. He stalked his way back across the murky classroom and stood at the head by the chalkboard. With his pale composure, the angry sneer on his face, and his suitably dark clothing, he more than fit the archetype of the intimidating teacher. Harry had little doubt that had there been any kind of review of the classes, that Potions would see the least rambunctious students. Snape's sneer was almost a promise of pain for the fools who would dare interrupt his class for anything less than an emergency.

"Welcome to Potions, Year 1," came his monotone introduction, "For anyone who was being a typical Gryffindor and not paying attention during the opening feast, I am Professor Snape, head of House Slytherin and resident Potions Master."

As he began his next part, his voice began to get more emotional to match his enthusiasm for the subject.

"In this class, you will learn the art of Potioneering. In my years of teaching, I have found that there are two types of students in this class. There are those with the patience and willpower to excel, and those... more _wanting_.

Potioneering is one of the subtlest and exacting subjects in the Magical World. The number who can truly go far in the field is very slim. For most of you, you will work and study hard, which will result in a fair and passing grade. For those of you who work harder, you will have many more careers open to you from Healers to being a future Potions Master. And for those of you with the natural predisposition for this most delicate of arts, I can teach you how to bottle _fame_ , brew _glory_ , and ever put a stopper. in. _death_. Of course, this is all dependent on talent and effort."

He reached under his desk, removing a quill and sheet of parchment.

"Since you are all seated, I will take roll and separate you into groups of two partners. Hope that you have a good partner, because you will be graded together. When I call your name, simply raise your hand."

Roll went on for about a minute before Snape got to the name he was waiting for.

"Orion Potter."

The second the words left his mouth, the door burst open to reveal a huffing and puffing Orion and Ron with a very cross Sprout dragging them by their robes.

"My apologies Professor Snape. Two of your students got lost and I had to lead them back here. I'm sorry for the interruption," she said sternly before spinning around and marching back into the corridor, closing the door behind her.

"Ahh," Harry could _hear_ the evil grin Snape was hiding behind his sheet of parchment, "as I was saying, Orion Potter. Our newest _celebrity_."

Unfortunately for Orion, his didn't seem to pick up on the fact that the Professor was _not,_ in fact, a fan of his. Instead, he looked up cockily. To one of the people who _hated_ him the most in the castle. Clearly, any survival instinct present in Orion was either long dead, or had gone to sleep, and nothing short of a raging dragon would wake it up.

"The one and only. Would you like an autograph? I have some headshots in here somewhere," he said, rooting around his bag. The Slytherins snickered, before Snape shot them a quick glare to silence them. He was going to drag this out, and make an _example_ out the arrogant Gryffindor, who also happened to be the son of his school nemesis.

"Are you sure? I mean, this is hardly an appropriate place for such a thing, especially for a Professor such as myself."

The degree of sarcasm and false hero-worship was nearly _palpable_. Still, Orion didn't notice as he kept digging through his bag in search of the photos he had brought specifically for autographs. For some reason, he wasn't going through as many as he'd initially expected. Maybe everyone just needed some time to get over the awe. Finally, he found one and pulled it out. With a quick flourish, it was signed with a dedication.

The room was silent, despite the Slytherins who were barely able to contain their laughter and the Gryffindors, who were watching the exchange with expressions usually reserved for those watching car accidents. They were terrified, and clearly wanted to stop what was happening, but they simply couldn't. stop. watching.

With a predatory grace, Snape glided over to Orion's desk and plucked the photo with two fingers, as if he wanted to avoid exposure. It was a 9x12 close-up photo of the pudgy Boy-Who-Lived blowing a kiss at the camera. Looking down, he read the dedication.

 _"To my biggest fan, Severus Snape. Love, Orion Potter."_

"You know," Orion mused, "dad warned me that you would be all mean, but you're just a big old softie on the inside aren't you? I mean, asking for my autograph on the first day of classes. You're a closet fan aren't you? I get those a lot."

The concealed snickering stopped at the look on the Professor's face. Anyone present that fateful day would later claim that for the briefest moment, Snape's face had been replaced with that of a snarling demon. Regardless of what actually happened, his face quickly formed into a massive smile, as if his life ambition had been fulfilled. Anyone not blinded by ego would notice that the grin was _just_ wide enough to cross the border from 'ecstatic' to 'unhinged'. Orion gained a smug grin, thinking that he had the Professor on his side now. Maintaining the smile, Snape silently padded back to his desk with the picture still held between his two fingers.

Suddenly, the smile dropped and was replaced by a sneer of pure contempt and malice. With a flick of his wrist the photograph was incinerated by one of the candles on his desk. Orion's smug look dropped into one of confusion

"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter, for both your tardiness even though the rest of your house was on time, and for interrupting my role call to indulge your ego. Now, since you obviously have better things to do than show up on class on time, I must assume that you have already mastered this year's material."

"So tell me, Mr. Potter-"

At this he paused, before an idea seemed to cross his mind. The Gryffindors nearly whimpered when the man smirked evilly, the candle light illuminating his face just enough to make his expression of pure, _evil_ glee terrifying.

"It seems that we have two Mr. Potters in this class. One raised as the brilliant Boy-Who-Lived, the other raised by muggles. We're going to need a way to differentiate the names. I have an idea, let us see which knows the material better. Let's say the prize for winning is the title of Mr. Potter the Superior, and the loser shall henceforth be Mr. Potter the Inferior. It is only _fair_ that we remind the Boy-Who-Lived of his ability in Potions compared to his brother, after all. That sound good class?"

He looked down at the Slytherins, who were nodding enthusiastically, while the Gryffindors were going green. They hadn't had much interaction with Orion so far, but what they had seen wasn't exactly confidence-inspiring when it came to his academic abilities. The Slytherins on the other hand, were confident that a member of their own house had already read ahead. That, and Harry had already something of a reputation, as well as the few previous classes to show that he was, in fact, vastly competent when it came to magic. And it was quite clear that it would be hard for him to do worse than Orion, anyway.

Orion, on the other hand, regained his cocky smirk as he glanced over at his twin. He was sitting next to those two bints of his, while those weird maids were glaring at him from the back of the room. He was confident because, even though he didn't study, he had at least been raised a wizard. He had learned some Potions terms, if only through exposure. Harry on the other hand had been raised a muggle squib. He would have no idea what the Professor was talking about.

He'd wipe the floor with the Slytherin prick.

"Go right ahead Professor," he boldly challenged, "Shame though that Harry's going to be stuck with such an embarrassing nickname."

Snape's sneer only grew, until it was nearly stretching his face. Harry was quite sure that the man might purchase a Pensieve, if he didn't have one already at least, if only to enjoy the memory of that day again and again.

"Alright then, first question Boy-Who-Lived. What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphrodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Damn, he should have expected betrayal from the snakes. Obviously, Snape was going to pound him with impossible questions and then give Harry really easy ones. They'd also probably set this up beforehand and the Professor had already given his squib brother all of the answers. He decided to counter by revealing their plan to everyone.

"Ohh, I get it now. You and Harry cooked this whole plan up beforehand, didn't you? You're going to give me all of these questions that nobody knows the answers to, but you've already told Harry all of the answers to the ones you're going to ask him. Not gonna work now though. Ten galleons says that this root of Afro-thingy and Beetlewood or whatever isn't even in the textbook."

The entire class simultaneously gave him a look as if he'd just drooled on his chin. He looked down at Ron, but he was just looking around, confused. After a brief silence, a cheerful voice chimed in.

"I'll take that bet."

He looked for the source and saw that girl with the weird purple hair that always seemed to be inexplicably clinging to Harry. Suckura or something. She gave him a dazzling smile that had him briefly blushing with how pretty she looked, before she pulled out her textbook and opened to the first page, reading aloud.

" _Welcome, students, to The Introductory Guide to Potioneering. This book will serve as a guide to slowly immerse you in the wide world of potion-crafting. Now, one of the very first questions we should answer is: what is a potion? A potion is a typically fluid magical substance created through the combination of various ingredients, both magical and mundane. An easy example of this is one of the potions you will be expected to be able to make by the end of this textbook. By combining powdered root of Asphrodel with an infusion of Wormwood in a very delicate and precise process, you can produce-"_

"I believe you can stop there, Ms. Emiya. Five points to Slytherin for remembering that the answer was on the first page, nay, the first _paragraph_ of the textbook. I might add that the first five chapters were explicitly stated to be mandatory assigned reading prior to coming to class. Also, I do believe the Boy-Who-Is-Inferior owes you some galleons."

Caught by his own confidence, Orion was forced to make due on his bet and grudgingly handed the money over to the still-smiling Sakura.

"Ten points from Gryffindor by the way, for not doing the assigned reading. Now, let's see if you brother can answer the question."

He looked over at Harry expectantly, who casually drawled out, "An infusion of powdered root of Asphrodel and Wormwood infusion under the right conditions produces the Draught of Living Death, sir, which is a very powerful sleeping potion."

"Five points to Slytherin, Mr. Superior. I'd also like to answer your previous accusation, Mr. Inferior, by reminding you that we are only playing this little game because you arrived late and decided that writing autographs to "your biggest fan" was a more productive use of your time than the class. How could I have possibly predicted those and arranged this beforehand?"

This seemed to take the wind out of Orion's sails. Ironically, anyone who knew Orion could have predicted both of those outcomes pretty well. Unfortunately for him though, nobody else in Gryffindor put that together, resulting in him just looking stupid.

"Now then, let's try the next question. Where would you look were I to drop you off outside and instruct you to find a bezoar?"

"Perhaps sunk in the depths of your greasy black hair?" Orion snarked. Since it was clear he was going to lose face, he might as well use the opportunity to insult the man, and hopefully get back some ground he had lost with the Gryffindors.

The room looked at Orion like he was insane, with the exception of Ron, who started howling with laughter.

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Mr. Superior, same question." Sneered Snape, whose evil smile seemed to be becoming painful, as wide as it was now. Why, he had just what he needed to criticize Potter for the way he had raised his son, and to eventually destroy his reputation, at least if the Brat-Who-Lived continued as he was going. Which was very likely, Orion wasn't exactly the sharpest wand of the bunch.

"Either the nearest Potion supply cupboard, Diagon Alley, or the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry replied easily.

"Five points to Slytherin. Things aren't looking good for you Mr. Inferior. How about an easy one? What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"Well, I imagine that neither are shampoo ingredients, _Snivellus_."

The collective classroom went deathly quiet while Snape's sneer went from 'mocking' to 'enraged'.

"Get out," he hissed, "GET OUT!"

Orion lazily stood, slinging his bag over his shoulders.

"I presume I'll be going to the Headmaster to have this point-loss voided?"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor. If the Headmaster voids those, I'll just keep taking points off until he can't catch up. Also, you'll be having detention with me for the next week, since the Headmaster cancelled the ones you earned with Professor Sprout. I'll additionally be speaking to your mother about your behavior."

Orion's face paled at the end of that statement. Dumbledore would undo any disciplinary actions the Professors put on him, but his mother had other options available to her. And while she doted on him, she was never one to suffer him insulting people, least of all _teachers_ , when it was unwarranted. And he had learnt to fear her anger.

"Now get out."

Scared now, Orion dashed out of the classroom like the hounds of hell were baying at his heels. Snape watched him leave with a look of disgust on his face, before schooling his expression and turning back to the class.

"And here I was thinking that Peeves was the resident nuisance. I'm going to partner you up for today's assignment. You'll be making a boil-cure potion. Ensure that you read the instructions _carefully_ , as if you make this incorrectly you will instead gain a potion that sprouts boils instead that will be immune to the regular potion, so they'll have to go away naturally."

The class was divided up into groups of two. Harry was partnered with Daphne, Illya with Sakura, and Neville with Ron. Harry could only feel pity for the Longbottom boy, as he wasn't even entirely sure that Ronald Weasley was _literate_.

Daphne proved an efficient partner. She seemed to be holding back and only doing what was necessary, prompting him to take the lead. People often said that a wizard's favored magical discipline betrayed some part of their personality. Transfiguration was for the strong and firm. Herbology was for the giving and optimistic. And Potions was for the clever and patient. A talent with Potions would indicate to Daphne whether he possessed more of the traits she desired in her future Lord and Master. He decided to prove her suspicion correct by brewing a masterfully crafted vial of boil-cure draught. Seeing that Snape had purposely given him extra ingredients, he took the hint and whipped something up with the remainder, slipping the second vial into his pocket.

Sakura and Illya were working well together. Of course, any magus would have the necessary focus and patience to see the making of a potion through. Though usually a childish and impatient little girl, Illya was a magus where it counted. They were only a minute or so behind Harry, with a potion of equal quality. Neville and Ron on the other hand...

"No Ron! Don't add that ye-"

A resounding 'boom' echoed from the back of the classroom as it filled with black smoke. Eventually it cleared to reveal two black-faced boys, one very angry and the other confusedly staring at the melted remains of a cauldron, as if he couldn't fathom what had possibly gone wrong.

"You bloody imbecile! We'd literally just added the porcupine needles! We had to wait five minutes before adding the snake scales, not five seconds!"

"Shut it squib! How was I supposed to know that?"

"IT'S WRITTEN ON THE BLOODY BOARD!"

"Please, like anybody _actually_ reads the instructions on these. This is like cooking; everyone knows you can just wing it."

Before either of them did something stupid, Snape decided to intervene.

"While I would usually not grade you separately, I will make an exception in this case as one of you _clearly_ knew what he was doing. Mr. Longbottom, you will receive a passing grade on this as the potion was going well under your supervision. Mr. Weasley, you have failed today and will remain after class to clean up your mess. Perhaps it will serve as a lesson to read the instructions next time, if you can even read."

"Don't talk to me like that, you dark bastard. Everyone knows that you're secretly a Death Eater and just want to get back at my family. You probably even sabotaged our potion, didn't you?" growled the redhead, who had apparently the same kind of lack of survival instinct than Orion. Harry briefly wondered if this couldn't prove that stupidity was contagious, before shrugging. Clearly it was only contagious if the person already lacked intelligence to begin with.

"Mr. Weasley, I believe that it would be prudent to cease your witless drivel. After you finish cleaning up your mess, you can join your good friend Orion at the Headmaster's office, and inform him personally of your ten-point deduction."

Grumbling to himself, Ron went to the nearby cupboard and retrieved a mop to clean up the potion fluid.

-Break-

The next couple of hours were rather uneventful for Harry. After Potions, he had History of Magic. From what one of the upper-year Slytherins said, it was essentially a study hall with an examination at the end of the year. Professor Binns was basically a recording playing on a loop at this point rather than an actual Professor. He just floated at the front of the room and droned on in a monotone about the Goblin Rebellions, hell, he didn't even seem to notice the students he was going to teach! Honestly, he should probably file an anonymous complaint to the Board of Governors that one of the Professors was blatantly incompetent and see if he could get Dumbledore in trouble. Subpar teaching would undoubtedly not sit well with the Governors, especially not since their heirs and heiresses were attending classes, and couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect.

He spent the majority of the period talking with Illya, Sakura, and Hermione Granger. Hermione seemed deeply offended at the notion of a school having a useless Professor simply because it was cheaper. When she began talking about academic honesty and the like, a plan formulated in his head to turn the Headmaster's blatant favoritism of Orion and Gryffindor against him.

He mentioned the business with Orion, Snape, and Sprout. By the time he was done, she seemed about five seconds from tracking down Orion and beating him senseless for his trouble-making, and the Headmaster for covering for him. She stood up and launched into a long and passionate monologue about equality in the field of academics and fair play. The Ravenclaws in the class looked up and started paying attention. If there was one thing that got them truly angry, it was something that would harm them academically. As Hermione spoke, they grew angrier and angrier, until they were nearly chomping at the bit in rage. Even the Slytherins were getting angry at the Headmaster's actions, while Daphne watched Harry's plan unfold in pleasure and approval.

With the seeds of bitterness planted, Harry subtly organized the two classes together, forming a very large and angry group of first-years. The plan wasn't for _these_ students to do much, as most of them knew little if any magic themselves. Instead, he would get them to persuade the rest of their houses into joining the disgruntled group. If he could get Hermione in a room with some Hufflepuffs, their sense of justice and fairness would get them on board as well. Most wouldn't trust a Slytherin on this sort of thing, but having an impassioned Ravenclaw at his side gave him an air of legitimacy. Ravenclaws _never_ did anything that "shook the building" unless they were certain that their sources were truthful and that _not_ doing something would harm their ability to learn.

With careful planning, he might even get the Gryffindors themselves to turn on Orion for being unfair. They did pride themselves on being the 'lightest' house, and if phrased properly wouldn't be able to tolerate one of their own behaving so deplorably and getting away with it. If this worked, he'd not only have the entire school turning against Orion and Dumbledore, but they would also be very grateful to him for bringing this to their attention and organizing it from behind the scenes. Not to mention, the only way the Headmaster would be able to save face would be to drop his support of Orion and give him all of the point losses and detentions he'd earned. Orion being Orion, he'd blame Dumbledore for it, which would drive the two apart.

If he could get outside press support and publicity, he might even be able to have the man removed as Headmaster, though that one was unlikely. But even if it didn't go that far, Dumbledore's image would undoubtedly suffer greatly, just what he wanted.

With one little mistake on Dumbledore's part, he'd tear apart the old man's grip on the school.

-Break-

After his extended study hall, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by James Potter. Just the thought of extended contact with the man brought a grimace to his face. Feeling his discomfort, Sakura gave his hand a gentle squeeze while Illya just latched herself fully to his arm.

The Servants all gave various advice, ranging from increased requests for permission to kill them all from Berserker, to one from Rider to allow her to just eat them, to Saber's inner statesman giving him advice on composing himself and dealing with people that you'd much rather just shove a sword through.

Inside the classroom, the Gryffindors seemed to have finally worked out the strategy of asking ghosts and paintings for directions and arrived almost at the same time as the Slytherins.

Evidently, Snape had followed through with his threat to speak to Lily, and she'd been rather upset to have a first-hand account from a Professor on her son's rudeness. The proof was clear on Orion's face as he shuffled in bearing a look of combined shame and rage. When he glanced over in Harry's direction, his eyes narrowed before he turned away.

Knowing that the boy was planning something, he tasked Assassin with following the boy after class and finding out what hair-brained scheme he was concocting. His devoted Servant instantly glided across the room and stood right in front of Orion, glaring at him with the force of a thousand suns. To put it lightly, his zealous Assassin was... not particularly _fond_ of the ones who had left her god to his childhood of torture, or anyone associated with them. Her desire to brutally slay them all was exceeded only by Berserker. She only held herself back from doing so because of the knowledge that it would interfere with her god's plans to see them be punished for their sin. After all, it was not the place of a mere servant to punish heretics who had sinned against a god, when said god already had a grand plan to deal with them.

The Slytherins all grouped together on the right side of the classroom while the Gryffindors took the left. Neither side wanted to sit near the other, with the exception of Neville, who sat next to Daphne. Some in his house, primarily Orion and Ron, looked disgusted with him, while the rest just gave him odd glances.

Finally, the door opened and James Potter strolled into the room. Rumor had it that he was actually a very good DADA Professor, if a tad biased against Slytherin. Scores had shot through the roof under his tutelage. Supposedly, he was to become the next head of Gryffindor when McGonagall retired. As he stepped up to his desk, he turned to face the back wall and saw the Homunculi standing against it at attention. His face visibly paled, before he brought it back under control and he began teaching the class, which earned him a sliver of grudging respect from Harry. He was quite sure that most wizards would run for their lives after the show of force from the Homunculi, but at least the man was willing to stand his ground.

He taught them an introductory lesson on what exactly the Dark Arts were, why they were dark, and the consequences of using them. This part of the class, Harry didn't like. James portrayed magic as far too black-and-white for his taste. True magic, in his opinion, was all based around intent. Magic was such a versatile skill that it was nearly impossible to write off a particular spell off as entirely beneficial or entirely evil. Of course, some were exceptions to this, but they were few and far between. But again, James Potter had never been very bright when it came to questioning the laws about magic, and as a firm follower of Dumbledore, he had clearly received more than a few lectures about how magic was either Light or Dark, and how Dark Magic was an abomination. Heck, Harry saw him more as someone who would condemn a "Dark" Magic user on principle, without even trying to see if the person was actually harming others first.

Instead of sounding educated on his subject, James just came off as fanatical in his condemnation of the Dark Arts, and their practitioners. As he began talking about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, he made some rather pointed comments about the parents of some of the attending Slytherin students.

Honestly, judging the Slytherins based on their parents was a bit unfair. Tom Riddle had won over his support base through sheer charisma, and a convincing ideology. Were he not so persuasive, his Pureblood Supremacist philosophy would have never found a foothold in the house. True Slytherins were rationalists above all else.

For example, Salazar Slytherin was infamous for attempting to ban muggleborns from Hogwarts. Most presume that this made him a racist. However, Salazar didn't hate muggles as a race, but as a culture. At the time, muggles were still very "Burn the Witch!", not to mention uneducated. Any attempt to integrate them into Hogwarts would result in either the wizard or witch being killed by their family for their "sin", or the student would arrive at a school for nobility, unable to read or write.

He wanted to either not contact muggleborns at all and just let them live happily in ignorance, or put them into a special, separate cram school at an earlier age to prepare them for entering the Wizarding world. He knew this because the Chamber of Secrets was essentially Salazar's wizard version of a magus workshop, and contained his journals, which Tom had read. The Basilisk contained within was not to purge the school of muggleborns, but to defend the workshop from all but his heirs.

Of course, Salazar spread rumors of his monster to keep others out of his workshop, but the rumors eventually morphed that he kept the beast as his own personal weapon of racism.

This is of course, was all to say that Slytherins weren't inherently racist. Really, what they wanted was just a true ideology and someone to serve. Tom Riddle had provided that, and so they had served him. All Harry needed was to use their hatred for Dumbledore as a catalyst and they would serve him as fanatically as they'd served Riddle.

Their parents, however, had served Voldemort and were too entrenched in his beliefs. By removing them, however, he would make their children in his service much more powerful and influential. Perhaps he should just give Assassin a list, like he'd done with the Einzberns. He'd need to build his political base prior to that though, so he could properly cover it up.

Aside from the initial bias, the class went fairly well. It wasn't until the very end that problems arose. James dismissed the class, but stopped Harry right before he left, saying that they needed to talk. The maids bristled, and he backed off somewhat. Harry feigned confusion, as if he was unaware of why his father would be afraid of three maids. He agreed to talk to the man, and sent Illya, Sakura, Daphne, and Neville on ahead. The Homunculi remained behind though, primarily to intimidate James if necessary. Once the five were alone, Lily came in and sat herself down next to James.

It seemed it was time to discuss his sorting.

"Harry," James began, "your mother and I have some... concerns regarding you."

Harry's face fell as he replaced it with a look of shame.

"This is about my sorting into Slytherin, isn't it?"

James nodded and grimaced, Lily just watched him curiously. Evidently, his mother wasn't quite as offended by the notion as James was. Perhaps the hat had also offered her Slytherin when she'd been sorted?

"Can I ask you what exactly the hat said before he sorted you?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, conjuring up the story he'd been practicing since his sorting.

"Well, I put the hat on and it started asking me all of these questions. I begged to go in Gryffindor, since Orion was in there. But the thing was, that the hat said that I had an opportunity. It asked me what I wanted to do here at Hogwarts, and I answered that I wanted to help Orion."

James got a small smile on his face at this, pleased that his eldest son didn't seem to be totally dark.

"And then?"

"The hat asked me where I thought that most of Orion's enemies would come from. Of course, I answered Slytherin. It told me that in Slytherin, I would face true challenges, and hatred for being your son. It told me that I would be spat on, derided, and despised. Eventually though, I would win their respect and turn them to the light.

It asked me whether I just wanted everyone to assume that I was brave, or if I wanted to _be_ brave. I answered, and it sorted me."

James and Lily both bore a look of pride at the thought of their son being the one to turn the most hated house in Hogwarts around, and making it respectable. James was still mildly suspicious of his son, though. Dumbledore had warned him to be especially careful when talking to Harry. Slytherins were infamous for deceit after all. After this little talk, however, most of his fears were assuaged. There was just one more little point to cover.

"That's amazing Harry. I think it's safe to say that you'll make us proud. Just think of it. One of my sons the Boy-Who-Lived, the other the Savior of Slytherin. There's just one more thing I'd like to talk to you about. Uhh, could you ask your... familiars to step outside for a moment?"

The maids bristled once more, and James flinched. Acting like he didn't notice the exchange, Harry shifted his face into one of confusion.

"Huh, why? If it's something secret, don't worry. I trust them with my life."

James grimaced again, knowing that this would be a difficult conversation.

"I'm afraid that keeping your familiars around would be..." he tried to find the right words, "detrimental to your well-being."

Harry looked a tad offended.

"No. I love you dad, but I love them too. They always stood beside me and helped me and Sakura when we were with Zouken. Besides, they're really strong, but they'd never hurt a fly. Right?" He turned and looked back at the maids, who nodded in agreement. Monica gave a slasher smile at James, who started shaking a bit.

" _Oh Merlin,_ " he thought in terror, " _my son has those_ _things_ _serving him, and he has no idea just how dangerous they are. And he's so attached that I'll never be able to convince him otherwise."_

"Of course, Master. We'd never hurt anyone on purpose. I mean, sometimes we don't know our own strength, but we'd never hurt anyone intentionally. We're only made to hurt bad people. Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?" she said, never dropping that terrifying smile.

"See dad? They won't hurt me or anyone else. Well, they did once tell me that part of their construction was telling them how to hurt bad people, but that's okay, because they're bad people. They didn't really tell me who the bad people were though."

"Bad people are people who want to hurt you or separate us from you, Master. We only hurt those people." Smiled one of the maids, giving James a large smile.

"Do you have to call him 'Master' all the time?" Lily interjected.

"He is our Master. What else should we call him?" Leanna asked, hiding amusement.

"Did he order you to call him that?" she asked in suspicion.

Leanna gave a baleful glare, offended at the implication.

"Of course not! Master would never do that! He is a kind and generous Master. We call him that because it would be improper to do otherwise."

Lily calmed down somewhat at the knowledge that her son wasn't abusing his power. She remembered her husband educating her about house elves, and realized that these might be similar beings. The obedience of a house elf, with the initiative and intelligence of a human. She'd run the theory by Dumbledore that these women were an attempt to make the perfect Servant, by combining aspects of the two. It would also explain why they were so firmly attached to Harry, along with their meeting and attack on Dumbledore. House elves were known to respond violently at times to attempts to separate them from their Masters.

Finally, James just gave up. He didn't want to start a fight with three beings that could get the drop on _Dumbledore_. He wasn't going to easily convince his son, not without overwhelming evidence. He'd have to inform Dumbledore of this development as soon as possible.

With the main topics of conversation down, James expressed disapproval, but acceptance of his son's familiars. Knowing that it was the best he'd get, Harry bid his parents a good day, and went to dinner.

With their son and his terrifying familiars gone, James sunk into his chair, wondering if he'd made the right decision in not forcing the issue.

-Break-

On his way to dinner, Assassin reported in on Orion. Apparently, he was plotting to ambush Harry with Ron after dinner. Well, that just wouldn't do, so he gave Assassin the vial he'd made in Potions, with instructions to ensure that it found itself in Orion and Ron's pumpkin juice. Assassin gleefully took the vial, delighted at being given orders from her god. She astralized again and slipped off to the kitchens.

About ten minutes later, Harry caught up with Sakura, Illya, Daphne, and Neville, who were waiting outside the Great Hall for the doors to open. The first three seemed to have already surmised what the meeting was about, and he confirmed that it went well. Neville wasn't quite as quick on the uptake, and need it explained. He was very happy though that his parents had accepted his sorting without any major difficulties. After a few minutes of discussion, the doors opened and they made their way over to the Slytherin table.

Ironically, this was one of the few times when Orion and Ron _weren't_ late, as they arrived the second the doors opened and dashed over to fill their bellies. He had to suppress a grin as he watched them take massive swigs of juice as the Great Hall filled with students. As he looked around, he couldn't help but notice the fruits of his labor. Every other house in the school, even Hufflepuff, were glaring daggers at either Orion, Dumbledore, or Gryffindor in general. The news had spread through the houses about Orion's essential immunity to the rules, and they were unhappy about it.

They did get some measure of satisfaction though when several minutes into the meal, Orion and Ron started yelling. All over their bodies, boils were sprouting like popcorn popping under their skin. Snape had been rather subtle about it, but between mentioning the effects of an improperly brewed boil-cure potion and leaving him with extra ingredients, he hinting at Harry to take some additional revenge against the git.

The best part was that the boils couldn't be magically cured. They'd either have to pop them painfully or just start applying creams and hope for the best. Either way, the two were in for an unpleasant week.

Red-faced with rage and boils, Orion stood and started furiously scanning the room, before his eyes landed on Harry and he sneered, before yelling at him from across the hall.

"This was you, wasn't it you slimy git? Huh, just couldn't handle my popularity and had to resort to something so cowardly? Don't even try to deny it! You're the only one in the school that would do something like this!"

Slowly and calmly, Harry stood to address his brother. The contrast between the two was night and day. The pudgy Orion was covered in both boils and food, screaming his head off and running his hands through his messy black hair. He looked like some kind of sickness-ridden beggar, one who had never learnt what basic hygiene even was.

Harry on the other hand looked like a young prince, in his finely tailored black and green robes, well-trimmed and maintained hair, and calmly composed manner. Standing calm and collected, he seemed to be towering over his brother, to have a presence on an entirely different level.

"Orion, literally anyone in the school could have done this. Now, you've obviously been slipped an incorrectly made boil-cure potion. Every first year in the school learned that potion today, and was told what happens if they make it wrong. Not to mention that _anyone_ in the upper years could prepare such a potion as well."

Orion stilled for a moment, but seemed to be unwilling to admit that he had no grounds to accuse his brother of anything. He had been raised by parents who doted on him, and everyone had always given him everything he wanted, so he had yet to understand that insisting on accusing someone of mischief when he was clearly wrong only served to make him appear like a spoiled brat.

"Oh yeah," he sputtered, "well you're the only one with a motive. Everyone in this school loves me!"

It was at this moment that he looked around to demonstrate his support and saw the glares that the students, and even some faculty, were shooting him.

"I'm not too sure if you've noticed this brother, but I wouldn't exactly call everyone here 'fans'. As a matter of fact, due to the Headmaster's blatant favoritism of you, I'm fairly certain that almost everyone here has quite the bone to pick with you."

Many in the Great Hall nodded their heads in agreement with Harry's words. Orion flushed in anger and looked around, before addressing the crowds.

"Why are you mad about _that_? Of course the Headmaster favors me! I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! I destroyed You-Know-Who! Doesn't that mean anything to you people?!"

"How?" came a voice from the Ravenclaw table. Turning to look, Harry was pleased to see that it was a positively livid Hermione. Orion just seemed confused at the question.

"How _what?_ "

"You-Know-Who," she clarified, "How did you kill him? I read a number of books that mentioned your defeating him, but none of them actually say _how_. Just that he broke into your house, stunned your parents, and tried to kill you. After that, all it says is that you 'vanquished' him. So, how. did. you. do it?"

Orion mouth opened to retort, and then closed, and then opened, and then closed.

"You don't even know, do you? It's your greatest, nay, _only_ life achievement, which you have based your entire life around, but you have no idea how you even did it. All anyone knows is that he entered your house, stunned your parents, and then somehow died, leaving you with a scar. The funny thing is, I've talked with Harry today, and did you know that he _also_ has a scar? Now, wouldn't that just be funny if _he_ was the Boy-Who-Lived?"

At this, Orion's face twisted in incoherent rage. He fumbled for his wand, drawing it and aiming it at Hermione. As he did this, Flitwick, Snape, and Sprout drew their wands, ready to intervene.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" he screamed in rage, "SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH YOU DIRTY. **MUDBLOOD. _WHORE_**!"

Many in the hall gasped at this while Dumbledore internally panicked. This had already been going badly, but this tipped the scales. He stood, hoping to make Orion sit back down before he further damaged his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived, but was prevented from doing so when Lily Potter stormed through the doors of the Great Hall like a rampaging lioness.

Her face was a mask of rage so pure it could have passed for serenity. Nobody would of course make that mistake when her voice bellowed through the Great Hall like a cannon. Few would be able to match her volume, even with a Sonorus.

"ORION JAMES POTTER! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DID YOU JUST SAY?"

It was at this point that most of those in the hall recalled that Lily Potter was originally Lily Evans, a muggleborn. When that information passed through their heads, there were mixed reactions.

The Slytherins were _ecstatic_. Some were even considering quickly calling a house elf for some popcorn just to enjoy the show. The Boy-Who-Lived, using a slur that applied to his own _mother_ , who happened to be one of the most intelligent and powerful witches of her generation (much to their chagrin), when his own achievements were put in question by _another_ Mudblood? Priceless! Most were already planning on sending the memory to their parents, as they were sure that they would quite enjoy the show.

The Ravenclaws were already _very_ pissed. They'd embraced Hermione as one of their own, and she had obtained a great deal of respect with them due to her highly studious, as well as inquisitive, nature. To have someone they were already angry at call her _that,_ well it nearly had some of the older students standing and hexing the boy. It wasn't as if losing him would be a great loss, Boy-Who-Lived or not.

You could practically see his support in Gryffindor deflate like air out of a balloon. He was already on shaky terms, only keeping his standing due to the Headmaster waiving any disciplinary action. Even then, some were angry at the unfair favoritism, even if it benefited the house. His own actions already cost their House quite a bit of its' good reputation, and there was a set limit of what they would tolerate from one of their own. The fact that Orion actually believed he could lord over them, even the older years, because he had done something as a _baby_ , was also playing against him.

The Hufflepuffs were, ironically, probably the angriest house. They had the highest concentration of muggleborns out of all of the houses, not to mention one of the key tenants of their house was fairness and justice. Some at their table, such as Cedric Diggory, were already fingering their wands meaningfully. Although given the way Lily Potter was looking at her son, they were quite sure that Orion was about to suffer a _massive_ reckoning. And if they weren't satisfied, well, they could always exert their vengeance later. Never underestimate a group of determined people who were loyal to each other, as they can give alibis for those actually acting against their enemies.

"M-Mum," Orion stuttered out.

" _Not. one. word,_ " she said through gritted teeth. Slowly, and with a frightening intensity, she marched over to her errant son, grabbing him by the ear and dragging him by it bodily out of the hall. Harry concealed a smirk, looking over at Daphne, who was staring at him in a brief moment of unconcealed awe. All of this from a single boil potion.

He just loved it when a plan came together.

-Break-

After a rather eventful dinner, a meeting was held in Slytherin. The meeting was that of the six prefects, three boys and three girls. While in the other houses the prefects were chosen by the head of house and could not be removed by either them or the Headmaster, in Slytherin it was different. Becoming a Slytherin prefect was an intricate affair of backroom dealings, backstabbing, and political pressure. If a prefect wasn't careful, they'd very quickly find themselves out of the office with a much more ambitious or clever Slytherin taking their place.

Which is to say, a Slytherin prefect represented those in the house that best represented its values. It was for this reason that they also enjoyed a much larger degree of authority over their peers than those in other houses. Between the six of them, they carried about an equal amount of power to Snape. It would not be untrue to say that they formed a council, which effectively ran Slytherin. It was they who decided and judged the members of the house, handing out rewards and punishments as appropriate. They were the ones who would arrange for an errant snake to temporarily lose the protection of the house to ensure that they remembered who was in charge. It was a very carrot-and-stick approach, but it worked.

The purpose of this particular meeting was to discuss the recent and highly unexpected development that was turning the house upside-down: Harry Potter. They'd all been observing him since his sorting, and they couldn't help but be impressed.

When he'd first showed up, he'd drawn interest if nothing else. The mostly unknown brother of the Boy-Who-Lived had come to Hogwarts. Of course, many expected him to be sorted into Gryffindor along with his brother. The first thing that had drawn their attention was his appearance. While his brother was a fat and spoiled brat, Harry had the beginnings of what was sure to be a very handsome appearance. He was wearing fine, but not showy clothes and had his hair neatly trimmed. They didn't have much explanation for its purple streak, however. He had the bearing of one with money, and who knew how to properly spend it, unlike someone like Draco Malfoy, who _threw_ his status as someone coming from money in the face of people.

His sorting was what had truly made them stand up and take notice. After fifteen minutes, the hat had enthusiastically screamed his house, and the boy had been _pleased_. Of course, he faked displeasure, but made it obvious to anyone that knew what to look for that he was happy with his sorting. This put him in a position that they hadn't considered. Many plans had gone right out the window when Malfoy was sorted into Gryffindor. Since every family in Slytherin had been financially assassinated by Dumbledore, they'd been planning on ingratiating themselves to Malfoy and vassalizing themselves to him. With their weight thrown behind his son, Lucius Malfoy would be able to make a legitimate move for control of the Wizengamot.

With Malfoy in Gryffindor, that wouldn't work anymore. Then Potter had come along and filled the place instead. With the money he could bring into the house, he posed a legitimate candidate to become the new Lord of Slytherin. Of course, there was the question of whether he was still his father's son. That had been answered within minutes of entering the common room when he had three women, who were apparently his _familiars_ of all things, beat down some students threatening him, before coldly explaining to the assembled house that he was _not_ his father's son.

They'd watched him plot and scheme his way through his first day. He'd led his year to every class, displayed excellent skill in magic, and made an alliance with Neville Longbottom, of the very influential House Longbottom. Daphne Greengrass seemed to be even further ahead of the curve than them and was following him up-close to do her examination. According to what they'd heard from the rest of the house, Potter had worked with Snape in Potions to humiliate Orion, had manipulated one of the Ravenclaw girls to turn the entire school against Orion and the Headmaster, and then used both that and a boil-potion to cause Orion to snap in front of the entire school and call Hermione Granger a filthy mudblood whore.

He was brilliant.

The only question at this point was how best to approach him.


	17. Chapter 17: Extra! Extra!

**What's crackalackin internet? Neolyph here again, with more of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. Wow, I really did not anticipate how much everyone would like last chapter. I mean, I thought it was a pretty good one, but damn. Also, 1000 FAVORITES! This is my first milestone, and in celebration, I'm going to put out a special chapter soon. Anyway, I love writing this story and I love getting positive reviews and responses. You guys are my motivation to keep writing.**

 **Review time!**

 **xYuukito: I'm trying to write exactly what would happen if you put a talented and powerful magus in Hogwarts. He'd fucking take the place over. As for Arawn, he said he's working on his next chapter, and that he's aiming to put it out early-to-mid this month. It takes him longer as he doesn't have as much free time as me, not to mention he has to put a lot more work into his chapters than me.**

 **Elquenodebesernombrado: It's something I've been considering, but Rider has no knowledge of Wizarding history. I was thinking of having Caster replace Trelawney.**

 **BijuuDamaBomber: They have a bit more dignity than that, but yeah, essentially.**

 **harlequin320: Precisely. He's just getting started.**

 **FuZzvKiNgZz: I wanted to portray exactly how a magus would operate in Hogwarts. He not only managed to orchestrate all of that, but he did so almost entirely anonymously. The only things he did publicly were talk with Hermione and defend himself against Orion's baseless accusations. Only the Slytherins and Snape really have any idea of his involvement.**

 **Raidentensho: Harry is very much an opportunist when it matters. He's not even finished pounding this nail in.**

 **Akuma-Heika: I suppose that it would be fair to say that Wizards are spiritual, if not religious. I mean, they literally have the dead employed as teachers. I don't really know about the TYPE thing. I don't have the time or patience to go digging through the Nasuverse to find out either. I think a childhood with Zouken would fuck up a kid's developmental cycle, at least until Harry fixed himself and Sakura. Puberty's gonna hit him like a ton of bricks. Aye, Snape was clever, but he was more brave than he was cunning. I think at the end of the Deathly Hallows, Harry calls Snape, "the bravest man I ever knew." I mean, the guy was a double-agent for Voldemort and killed his mentor for the cause. The man had balls. I think Snape only seemed more clever than other Slytherins because they were JK Rowling's personal bash-house. Like I've said before, with D.O.N, terms like "projected" and "copies" and "created" start becoming pretty interchangeable. Magic is all about intent. Monica wasn't ordered to attack Dumbledore, so it didn't register. If I have a gun in my house and a guy breaks in and accidentally shoots himself with it, I'm not a murderer. Or if I have a lion in a zoo and a guy jumps in to its cage, I didn't kill him. If I sic a dog on a guy, however, and it kills him, then I am a murderer. Wizard textbooks are much thicker than regular ones. Due to the duration of Snape's tenure at Hogwarts, he'd found a single book that can cover the students up to OWLs. It essentially saves both him and the students time and money. Harry just performed the instructions incorrectly while Ron did basically the exact opposite. I'm honored to hold that place in your favorites.**

 **Soaring Midnight Raven: While the Slytherins were all portrayed as mini Death Eaters in canon, I always wondered how cool they could be if they were truly the ambitious, clever, and cunning. This was the result. I update as fast as I can, but writing is hard. :-(**

 **Caelleh: You see some of the Slytherin reaction in this chapter. Lily's comes next.**

 **Lord Jace: Glad to know I'm one of your favorites.**

 **NakedFury: I don't know. I really like studying psychology, so I guess manipulation just kind of comes naturally to me, which I guess plays into my writing. Proper manipulation and scheming is kind of like setting up dominoes. You just have to pick an individual's most likely reaction to a specific stimulus and plan from there.**

 **Mangahero18: Have you read the Harry Potter series? Most of the characters in the early books are caricatures, especially Ron. Not to mention, if you've ever spent close proximity to a bunch of eleven year old, some of them are massive pieces of shit. I just write Orion how I would write a combination of Draco and Dudley in canon, but were he the BWL.**

 **AbaddontheDevourer: Thanks, it's good to know that. I think this sort of thing comes a lot more naturally to me than, say, writing the FSN arc.**

 **AnimeA55Kicker: ...To unite all peoples within our nation**

 **Gabriel Herrol: He knows their identities from the Dream Cycle, but he mainly refers to them by class because it's their preference. Most of them still see themselves as Servants, even if the war is ended. For that reason, they prefer their class title over their name.**

 **Thundramon: I'm focusing less on the schooling itself and more on his political machinations and the reactions to them. I always hated how the Slytherins were basically used as JK's chew toy in canon, particularly since I think they're my favorite house. I understand the concept behind the stone, and agree with it. Thanks for the advice.**

 **Anomanom: As I told Mangahero18, JK didn't exactly make realistic characters in her first books either. I'm just sort of keeping the spirit until they grow up a bit. For example, in the later parts Orion may start getting tired of having his ass handed to him by Harry, and start taking some proactive measures.**

 **Wingd knightL: Quirrel is not at Hogwarts because James teaches DDA. Voldemort has still infiltrated the school, but I won't say how. Dumbledore doesn't check the mirror, so he doesn't know it had gone missing yet.**

 **Ashes of the Dragon: Well, Daphne gets introduced in this chapter, and I have some ideas at least. I intend for him to vacation to other universes over his breaks, summer or otherwise.**

 **GeassDragon: The screen time problem is something that's been brought up before, and don't worry, it's a valid complaint. I'm trying to give them adequate screen time, but at the moment Harry has just arrived at his home dimension, and between his need to quickly establish himself and the general structure of having to hide his familiars, it makes that difficult. I'm still working out a way for them to be able to do that, which trust me I will.**

Chapter 17: Extra! Extra!

After a rather eventful dinner, Harry and the girls made their way back to his dorm room. Unfortunately, they would not be staying. Orion had essentially just committed political suicide and he'd be damned by the Root before he let the git get away with it, as was bound to happen should he leave things as they were. Dumbledore would do absolutely everything in his power to try and avoid the public being made aware of what had happened, and he had the political power to do so, as well as the control on the school required to screen the letters sent from Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, further exploitation of his little debate with Hermione would require him to go off Hogwarts grounds, and for that to happen, certain precautions would be needed. He'd originally intended to go alone, but Sakura, Illya, and the Servants quickly shut down that notion. Given what they'd seen of wizardking so far, they were not impressed, but they were not stupid enough to think that Harry was safe, even with all his power. Wizards played dirty, using spells with effects that differed greatly from each other, making it hard to guess what they would do. All it would take was a single mistake to cost them their love interest/Master/Big Brother again, and they all refused to accept that.

Instead, he wove enchantments over himself, Sakura, Illya, and the maids. He made himself take on the appearance of Kiritsugu, while Sakura shifted into a facsimile of an older Rin, much to her chagrin. Illya ended up looking like Irisviel, and seemed delighted at the idea of having breasts. The maids, he simply tweaked their appearances and put them in muggle suits. They were rather displeased to be out of their maid uniforms, for reasons he couldn't fathom. He suspected some of Zelretch's "talks" with them, the man would undoubtedly try to corrupt them, if only to have some fun. If he could convince them to act like stereotypical maids, Harry wouldn't be very surprised.

Once they were all properly disguised, Harry and the girls used the Kaleidoscope to teleport to Diagon Alley. The first stop would be Gringotts Wizarding Bank, for some financial consultation. It was time to see what political advantages his two lordships granted him.

-Break-

At the bank, a quick inquiry with a teller had the group of six led to an office, which contained the manager for Harry's accounts. The goblin, Griphook, was originally skeptical of the group until Harry dropped the illusions and revealed his true appearance. Once his identity was verified, thanks to a simple blood test that would have most Magus drooling due to the interest of being able to tract their line up to its' origins, he was presented with his family rings.

He had one from Slytherin, which was pure mithril, inscribed with a great number of runes in Parselscript, and had a large emerald set into the metal that practically glowed with magic. He was told that the ring was the ultimate defense against treachery. It would filter the food and drink of him or anyone he felt a strong attachment to of poisons and harmful potions, neutralizing the effects, as well as warning him of what was happening. Additionally, it would alert him should any who had claimed loyalty to him try to act against him. It was the ultimate tool for a leader of men. Had Voldemort possessed this, perhaps he might have won the war.

Rowena Ravenclaw's ring was less showy, but more magical. It was a simple ring of mithril as well, with a sapphire set into it. Archaic runes covered the entire surface of the ring, and even some of the gem itself. Ravenclaw being who she was, its primary purpose was as a research tool. It would accelerate the rate at which he processed information even more than his occlumency, mental partition, and thought acceleration already did. He'd be able to just quickly flip through the pages of a book and absorb the entirety of its information. The majority of the spells woven into it however seemed to be designed to act as a search function of sorts for libraries. What intrigued him about this wasn't the library part, but the magical ability to search for information or keywords. Something like this was exactly what he needed for his Akashic Reality Marble. Of course, he'd need a greater knowledge of runes before he could start tweaking this design for his own use, but it was a possibility.

Great, now he had another research project.

After the two heir rings for the founders, he also received a ring marking him as the heir to House Potter. While not as impressive as the other two, it was a pretty bit of jewelry. Due to it only being the heir ring, and not the lordship ring, it did not contain any enchantments. Normally the ring would have been presented to him in a much more elaborate and official ceremony by his father, but the man was still attempting to ensure that Orion became the next Lord Potter. Even if it was with the best of intentions, in his eyes Harry was still a Slytherin, and no Lord Potter in the past had been from any house but Gryffindor. Fortunately, he was still entitled to the ring whether or not James agreed with it. If the man asked, he could always claim that the Gringotts goblins owled it to him.

With his three symbols of power firmly fastened to his right hand, he consulted Griphook about potential assets. Apparently both families possessed massive vaults, the oldest and largest in this branch of Gringotts as a matter of fact. Not that he really needed them of course. With the Denial of Nothingness, he could simply create galleons if he needed them. Regardless, the money would be useful. Just creating money would have been boring, plus he risked collapsing the economy if he wasn't careful in how much he created, as well as possibly making himself the Goblins' enemy, since they seemed very good bankers, which meant they had to keep traces of the money circulating. And while he was certain that any conflict with them would be won by his side, it was better to not make enemies unnecessarily.

You see, the next step in keeping the momentum from Orion's outburst going would require outside support.

That meant press.

The problem with that however, was that there was only one real newspaper in Wizarding England, The Daily Prophet, and they seemed firmly attached to the constant headline that was The-Boy-Who-Lived. A few minutes of searching on Griphook's part revealed the reason. The newspaper company was publicly traded, and Albus Dumbledore owned a thirty percent stake in it, making him the majority shareholder. He used a combination of this and political intimidation on the other shareholders to ensure that Orion's public image was maintained.

Of course, all of this depended on one thing to continue succeeding: that nobody would come along with enough capital to offer the shareholders an out at a profit. And with the way the old man had handled things, he had little doubt that it would be easy to convince them about sharing the news of Orion's outburst, if only to stick it to the aged wizard.

At Harry's instructions, owls from Gringotts went out to every shareholder but Dumbledore offering double the value of their stocks. Within an hour, every single owl returned bearing an official seal authorizing the sale of them to either Lord Ravenclaw or Lord Slytherin. Nobody liked holding stock in a company with someone like Dumbledore preventing them from influencing any of the decision-making. When an offer was made to give them an exorbitant profit on them, it must have seemed like a godsend.

With seventy percent of the stock held in either of his lordships' names, he essentially had control of The Daily Prophet. The plan now was to ensure that they were writing the correct stories.

-Break-

At the Daily Prophet offices, one reporter was working the graveyard shift. Rita Skeeter was a talented writer and understood the value of a political piece, but this was not what she had signed up for. Hour after hour, day after day, all she did was write promotional pieces for Orion Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Of course, she understood that Albus Dumbledore essentially had the entire newspaper company by the balls, but that didn't mean she didn't try to slip things past his censor at every turn. Nobody liked the status quo, but they were powerless to do anything about it. Now, if someone could just give her the opportunity to show the world about the true Orion Potter…

It was as she sat at her writing desk, pumping out yet another propaganda piece centered on the younger Potter boy, this one in particular focusing on his trip to Platform 9 3/4 and schooling at Hogwarts, that her door opened and her editor practically skipped in, with a slightly manic grin on his eyes. The way his eyes were glinting told her that whatever had happened, she was going to like it. Very much so.

"Whatever you're writing Rita, _throw it out_."

-Break-

After his late-night excursion to the Daily Prophet, Harry laid in bed with the girls, contemplating his next step. Apparently, The Daily Prophet _hated_ the position Dumbledore had them in, which meant that he now had a very enthusiastic propaganda machine under his control ready to steer the general public at his whim. When he'd marched into their office in his Kiritsugu disguise and announced that they were under new management before instructing the head editor to turn out a piece on Orion's mistake, the tired man had leapt to his feet like Christmas had come early. He'd been a bit surprised, until a very happy secretary had explained to him what it was like under Dumbledore's regime. Using intimidation was only effective when your target had no other choice but to obey, after all. And when they were given an alternative, one that allowed them to not only print the truth, but to basically stick it to the one who had all but threatened their jobs, suffice to say that they were quite enthusiastic about it.

What he needed to do now was continue his political machinations. Purchasing the newspaper company had revealed to any interested parties in Wizarding England that Lords Slytherin and Ravenclaw had returned, both formed in an alliance. Of course, they would assume that rather than it being a single individual because the alternative would seem preposterous to anyone but a Gringotts genealogist. Wizards were funny that way.

In order to keep anyone from digging too deep, he needed to put a face to the two lords that people could associate with them. His plan for this was to take someone and make them a regent hold both of their seats on the Wizengamot under the claim that due to their alliance only a single representative was required, and that the two lords were only using a regent because they wished to remain anonymous due to the fame of their positions.

The tricky part of that was finding someone who would not only represent his interests, but remain loyal, anonymous, and be capable of calling out Dumbledore or Fudge whenever they tried to slip something dubious past the Wizengamot. His original consideration was Kiritsugu, but he didn't want to involve his true father in the mess that was the Wizengamot. After that he considered Zelretch, but he genuinely _feared_ what the old man would do with the near-complete power his two seats afforded him over England's Wizarding Council.

Then Archer chimed in, offering to take over the job, and Harry only kept from bursting out laughing due to the knowledge that it would disturb the sleeping girls. That would be _perfect_. He'd had enough conversations with his sarcastic Servant to know that he was just what the Wizengamot needed to stir up some chaos. Though not exactly politically-minded, his mental link with Harry would ensure that he could dedicate one of his mental partitions to monitoring the assembly and instructing him when needed.

Archer's natural... charisma would carry him through the rest.

-Break-

Meanwhile, Daphne Greengrass had once more retreated to her dorm room, head reeling. She had severely underestimated Potter. He was everything she had thought him and more. She'd originally thought that he would simply make a fair and decent lord, with the capital and cunning to navigate the particular brand of politics that came with being a Slytherin lord.

Now though, that changed. For the first time since she met him, she truly experienced his _gravitas_. It was just a hint of it, but when he'd stood to confront his pig of a brother, she had seen it. She saw the brain, the power, the authority. Some men are born to command, some achieve the ability to command, and others have command thrust upon them.

Harry was most definitely in the first category, and if there was one thing that attracted her, it was power. She needed to be his, and she would do anything to make it so. She would stand at his side and they would conquer the world together. While she had been trained for this, it was not the only reason for her choice. As a Slytherin, she was ambitious and cunning, which meant that she wanted the best for herself. And by Merlin, Harry Potter truly was the best. He had a nice power base, the cunning necessary to be more than just a stupid, mindless husband, he was intelligent and charming, and had also the promises of a truly attractive man in the making. In a word, he was perfect.

Already, whispers were starting that the council was preparing to unite the house under him. She couldn't let that happen, not before she got to him first. If she was to secure the position she craved, she would need to be the first to approach him. She'd intended to wait at least until the end of the week, but these rumors were forcing her hand. It did help that her mother had already given her permission to take the necessary steps.

She needed to act now.

-Break-

Harry's rest was disturbed by a light knocking on his door. Curious, he roused himself and went to check it out. Looking back, he saw that Assassin had already stepped out, dressed herself, and taken a position behind him. Evidently, she was still maintaining her habit of foregoing sleep in favor of watching him. At this point he'd honestly just gotten used to it, even found it somewhat endearing. Besides, it wasn't as if he could do anything about it.

He checked the wards he'd layered all over the dorm to discover the identity of his late-night visitor, and was amused to find that it was Daphne Greengrass. It seemed that his little demonstration with his brother had finally won her over to him, and that she was ready to take her oath. Of course, it could also be because he'd sent Assassin to spy on the prefect meeting and disseminated the information amongst the rest of the house. His original intention had simply been to accelerate the house's actions.

By giving the impression that the council had already decided to swear the house to him, they wouldn't be able to do anything but that without taking a serious hit to their credit, nor would they be able to wait for very long before doing so without looking indecisive and flighty. Evidently, this sudden information had unintentionally spurred Daphne into action.

If she was to take a magically-binding oath of loyalty, he figured that it wouldn't hurt to make her privy to his power. For this reason, as he approached the door he sent Assassin to rouse the girls and have the Servants astralize.

After a brief minute, Illya and Sakura were both dressed, as were the maids while the Servants had astralized and scattered themselves around the room. With everyone in position, Harry opened the door to admit his soon-to-be first witch lieutenant. If she was surprised at how quickly he'd dressed and answered the door, she didn't show it through the mask of impassiveness her rudimentary Occlumency afforded her. For once though, her mask seemed to be fidgeting a bit, as if she was keeping a particularly tight hold on her emotions.

He heard the maids line up behind him as Sakura and Illya took their places at his sides. A quick burst of Legilimency revealed that... she was turned on.

Oh dear Root.

-Break-

At Harry's door, Daphne was fidgeting in nervousness. Fortunately, her Occlumency gave her enough self-control to clamp down on it for the meeting, but only just. What she felt, for the first time in her life, was lust. In all of her lessons in seduction from her mother, she'd thought she had pretty good understanding of the feeling, but she was woefully unprepared for the real thing. Granted, she was only eleven, but that meant that she had yet to experience the full brunt of her hormones screaming at her to reproduce, which would likely have made the feeling much, much worse.

Had she not already checked, she'd suspect that she'd been slipped a love potion, but such was not the case. The burning feeling she was undergoing was genuine. She would become Harry Potter's Dark Lady, his loyal Servant, his silent executioner, and hopefully, his love. Her house was a traditionalist one, which meant that such things between children their age were seen as common. Merlin, some of her ancestors had even practiced polygamy. though that was slightly less common, but still accepted.

She took a moment to compose herself before knocking on the door of her future Lord and Master. This was the most critical moment of her life, the product of all her training. If Harry turned her down, her family would be ruined. She feared what her mother would do to her. She might even be disciplined with the Cruciatus curse again, like she'd been on occasion when she made a severe mistake in her training.

She idly wondered if this was how Bellatrix Lestrange had felt before she swore loyalty to Voldemort. The woman had been the perfect example of a proper Dark Lady, if a bit insane. There was a reason that even one as infamously paranoid as Voldemort had kept her by his side at all times as his most elite guard and agent of death. The woman was fanatical in her devotion to her Master, even in Azkaban. Hopefully, her service to Potter would not lead to the same fate.

It wouldn't though, she just knew it. She'd seen pensive memories of the previous Dark Lord, and had not been very impressed. Sure, the man had presence, but it shriveled in comparison to the magnitude of Harry when the moment struck him. And by the end of the war, the Dark Lord barely resembled a human anymore, stupidly sacrificing his humanity for more power. Harry wouldn't have such a problem though, from what she had seen and felt, he had more power than some seventh years, at eleven. It was clear as day that when he would reach his peak, he would be an unstoppable powerhouse, a good-looking one at that, if he had inherited his birth parents' good looks. Was it surprising that she was deathly aroused by the idea of serving the perfect Lord?

Finally, the door was opened to reveal an expressionless Harry, flanked by those two "sisters" of his. She'd had enough lessons in seduction to recognize the carefully hidden signs from the purple-haired one showing that she was deeply in love with her future lord, and had recognized the same thing from those maids of his, whom had lined up behind the boy like dutiful bodyguards. She could deal with that, though. As she'd stated before, polygamy was something she was prepared for as a traditionalist family. And it would certainly be better than being Malfoy's wife. Harry, while a bit of a loner, clearly cared not only for his sisters, but also his maids, when other wizards would treat them as little more than animals.

She nearly shivered at the power the boy radiated, even at having just awoken. Already he had the makings of a strong power-base, between his two incredibly talented adopted siblings and his unnaturally strong familiars, he already had more powerful supporters than Voldemort had started off with. True, the Dark Lord had had at least a dozen people on his side at the very beginning, but most of them simply couldn't compare to what could be found in Harry's followers: talent, power, ambition and cunning.

She concealed a nervous swallowing, before beginning as confidently as she could manage.

"Heir Potter, I am aware of the late hour and apologize for it, but I have urgent business I would speak with you about. May I come in?"

Harry looked her over for a brief moment, before nodding his assent and standing to the side, permitting her entrance.

"Please, be my guest."

The maids parted to allow her past, keeping a watchful eye on her. She calmly stepped past them, though with no small amount of trepidation. She'd seen what they'd done to Theodore Nott and his cronies, and was highly wary of them. And given their obvious infatuation with Harry, she'd have to tread very carefully, lest she wish to experience a _lot_ of pain. Her mother had warned her that some women could be terribly vicious when defending the man they loved from what they saw as competition, and she didn't want to end in the infirmary, or dead, because she had made a poor choice of words.

Once she was inside the spacious dorm room, Harry closed the door before striding to an ornate but comfortable chair on the far side of the room with the air of a king granting audience to a supplicant. Given the nature of the meeting, it wasn't that far off, and Daphne couldn't help but superimpose an image of a throne room over the elegant dormitory.

The three triplets completed the image as they stood at the side of the throne like knights on-duty to defend their Lord. She had to suppress the mental urge to prematurely kneel. There would be time for that, but not before the offer was made and considered. Any show of submission before that might give him the wrong idea, or give away her position, which would be disastrous.

Harry sat himself down lazily in the chair, and Sakura daintily rested herself on the arm of it, wrapping an arm possessively around Harry's shoulder. Reciprocating the show of affection, he looked at her expectantly.

"So, Heir Greengrass, what can I do for you at this hour?" he opened innocently, although the way he spoke, and the way he held himself, told her that he was aware of the likely topic of conversation. Seeing that he had deliberately taken the only chair in the room, she was forced to stand before him respectfully as she replied.

"Let us drop pretenses, shall we, Potter?" at his nod of agreement, she continued, "You are fully aware of the financial state Headmaster Dumbledore has left House Slytherin in," another nod, "It is for this reason that I am acting so prematurely. As I am quite sure you have already gathered, I have been assessing you for the position of the Lord and Master of House Greengrass, and I have found you an individual worthy of our loyalty. Should you accept our offer, in exchange for granting us the necessary finances to regain our former status, House Greengrass shall give its full service and obedience to you and your descendants. Are these terms acceptable?"

She was incredibly nervous as she finished her rehearsed speech. This was the moment that would decide not only her own future, but that of her entire family. Should the offer be declined, they would be destroyed completely, with little more options than to beg the Light, which their pride would not allow, not when the Light had been responsible for their current state. Everything rested on the boy in front of her, who was giving her a look of deep contemplation from his throne-like chair.

After what seemed like an eternity, he rose, Sakura standing as well and taking a place at his side like a queen, before gazing straight into her eyes. With the soul-searching stare he gave her, were he older she'd have suspected him of using Legilimency. As he was only eleven though, even if she wouldn't put it past him given his magical prowess, it was highly unlikely that he'd learned or mastered the art enough to use it without tripping her Occlumency barriers.

"Very well, Heir Greengrass. I, Hadrian Potter, Heir of House Potter, Heir of House Ravenclaw, and Heir of House Slytherin, do accept your offer of vassalage." he intoned, greatly reminded of when Saber had sworn her loyalty as a knight to him. Apparently, he wasn't the only one to notice the similarity, as Saber blushed and began scolding him for the comparison.

Daphne's eyes widened almost comically at the mention of his other titles. Even her Occlumency couldn't protect her from such a bombshell being dropped. Deciding that she'd question him about it later, she shakily knelt before him in a show of respect to deliver the oath.

"By the laws of magic, before whom this sanctuary is sacred, House Greengrass swears that it will to Lord Hadrian Potter be true and faithful, and love all which he loves and shun all which he shuns, according to the laws of magic and the order of the world. Nor will House Greengrass ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to him, on condition that he will hold to us as we shall deserve it, and that he will perform everything as it was in our agreement when we submitted ourselves to him and chose his will. So mote it be."

As she pronounced the end of the oath, Harry could feel the air in the room thicken with magic, enforcing the oath. Daphne reached into her robe and withdrew an ornate box, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Opening it, she revealed a golden ring with a green diamond set into the gleaming metal. She held the box up to him, prompting to extend his hand.

"Please accept this as a token of our loyalty, my Lord," she said as she gingerly took his hand and slipped the ring onto it, noting with shock the confirmation of his other titles in the form of the Ravenclaw and Slytherin rings. With the ring on, she resumed kneeling where'd she been before, waiting for him to speak. Seeing that she wasn't going to ask the obviously burning questions she must have, Harry decided to take the initiative and ensure her continued loyalty.

He explained to her his lordships, how he had obtained them, and his status as the slayer of Voldemort. Because she was literally incapable of treason or revealing his secrets, he also explained his true magics, including the Kaleidoscope, the nature of his maids, his plans for the destruction of Dumbledore, his plan to remove Fudge from office and take over Wizarding England, and his various relationships.

By the time he was finished, she was nearly struck dumb at his power and brain. She'd simply though him a mighty potential Dark Lord, not a being who stood head-and-shoulders above most gods. A very small part of her brain was screaming at her to get a grip on herself, but she could barely hear that voice over a much louder part of it broadcasting the same feeling she imagined Bellatrix Lestrange had felt when she'd looked at Voldemort.

Worship.

She was a woman attracted to power, she had been raised for that, and she'd just sworn herself to quite possibly the most powerful individual in the world. What had been desire was now devotion, what had been devotion was now obsession. He was a man worth killing for, and she'd ensure that she was at his side to do the job for him. While that Sakura girl might have a slot at his right, she'd be on his left.

She didn't care what she had to do to get it.

Once he'd explained everything, he said that she should meet her comrades in his service. She was rather confused at that, as while he'd explained that he had powerful spirits in his service, getting them past the Hogwarts wards would be next to impossible. Then she remembered who she was talking about: her near omnipotent Master. Getting some powerful spirits inside Hogwarts without triggering the wards would be a walk in the park for him, especially since he was the Heir of two of the Founders.

Around the room, people suddenly appeared out of thin air. Perhaps calling some of them people wasn't entirely accurate if what her Master had told her was true, but it was the closest approximation she could get.

Four of them appeared on Harry's sides, two on each. The one closest to his left hand was an enchanting woman, with blue hair, pointed ears, and a face so serene that she couldn't be anything but a Master Occlumens. Just looking at her, she could tell that the woman had either received similar training to herself, or was lucky enough to possess the natural predisposition for the art of manipulation.

At the blue-haired one's side was a short, blonde woman in an armored dress. She had the regal bearing of one born to rule, similar to her current Lord. Between her armor and the truly magnificent sword she had sheathed at her side, it was clear that this woman was a swordswoman of some sort.

At Harry's right hand stood an ethereal purple-haired woman in some sort of fetish outfit. What struck her was the aura of danger that the woman gave off. Sheer proximity to the woman informed her that she was something ancient, powerful, and deadly. If this woman saw her as a threat to her Master for even an instant, that would be all it took to end her life. Fortunately, she had no intention of doing anything but serving him as best as she could, and conquering the world for him if that was what was what it took to please him.

Perhaps most unnerving was the black-haired woman who had recessed herself in the shadows next to the purple-haired one. Her face was cold and calm, but her eyes bore a devotion for Harry that made Bellatrix's loyalty to Voldemort look like a mild infatuation. Those eyes were currently looking straight at her, with a contemplative expression in them. Not only were the woman's proportions positively ludicrous, even with a metamorphmagus's talents, but the way she casually showed them off in her low-cut black and hooded dress made it clear that she had even more competition for her Lord's affections.

As a matter of fact, all four of these women had looked at Harry with less-than-pure intentions written on their faces, with the exception of the swordswoman, but even she had something akin to love in them.

No, he couldn't be...

It made sense though. He seemed perfectly alright with his maids being in love with him, what were four spirits apparently capable of taking corporeal form? It was larger than most traditional polygamist lords usually took, but it was not out of the ordinary.

Her Lord had a harem.

That made her plans simultaneously easier and harder. On the upside, it would become easier to enter the realm of his affection, but on the downside she would have to fight number of other fully-grown women for the number two position. Beautiful women, who had lifetimes of experience on their side, as well as powers beyond anything she could offer. The only good thing was that they lacked knowledge on the Wizardry World, knowledge that she could provide, and it would likely be her best bargaining tool in gaining her Lord's affections. That, and her hopefully good looks, although her mother had assured her that she would be just as beautiful as a Veela when the time came.

But didn't he say that he had six Servants though?

A feeling of dread and terror struck her like a physical force, coming from right behind her. She could barely breath from the pressure of whatever this thing that had taken shape behind her was. Tentatively, she turned and was forced to look up to see its face.

It was tall, that she was sure of. An easily nine-foot tall giant with ebony skin barely fit in the spacious dorm as he loomed over her, growling. She couldn't bring herself to look it in the eye though. She thought that the purple-haired one had been scary, but this one terrified her to the point that she almost forgot to breathe. How could something like this even exist? And how had her Lord acquired its service? It seemed more inclined to smash anything and everything to pieces, than to accept serving someone.

"Berserker," came the bemused voice of her Lord, "she's a friend now. Be nice."

Oh, thank Merlin. As soon as he said that, the feeling of death receded and the giant backed off, though he looked unhappy about it. She couldn't really tell though, as he still looked incredibly angry. And she had absolutely no wish to pry into the matter, not when whatever Berserker was could crush her head like an overripe fruit if she ever gave him a reason for it.

Finally, at the giant's side stood a relatively handsome gentleman in a red coat, with white hair crowning his tanned skin. Out of all her Lord's familiars, he looked the most... human. All of the others had either physical features or personality traits that betrayed their inhuman natures, but this one just seemed like cynical adult. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement from where he was leaning against the wall.

Once the introductions were exchanged, and she learned their very strange titles, they made some very brief plans before parting ways. The meeting had gone on for quite a long time, and they would require rest for the next day.

After all, tomorrow he would have to further build his power-base.

-Break-

 **The-Boy-Who-Lived Reveals True Colors?**

by Rita Skeeter

 **Shocking news comes from Hogwarts sources late last night. According to our trusted and valued sources within the school, a vicious confrontation occurred between Orion Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and Hermione Granger, a well-respected muggleborn student of the same year. Though the causes of the argument have yet to be verified, sources indicate that the argument arose when the intelligent Ravenclaw student Granger confronted young Orion Potter on the Headmaster's clear favoritism of the boy.**

 **Yes, you read that right readers. Albus Dumbledore, Leader of the Light, Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W, Chief Warlock, and Headmaster of Hogwarts, has been waiving absolutely any disciplinary actions taken against his favored pupil and protege.**

 **"He assaulted a fellow housemate before mouthing off to Professor Sprout," testified one student, "and he didn't lose a single point or get a detention, despite Professor Sprout assigning both. He just went to Dumbledore and the man dismissed all of it without cause."**

 **It should be reminded that Pomona Sprout is the head of House Hufflepuff, and is seen as one of the kindest and most respected professors at Hogwarts. What does it say that young Orion Potter was able to so grossly violate the rules and wave his status in the face of such a beloved teacher, and have all of it ignored by the man who's very job it is to ensure that discipline is kept within the school?**

 **As stated before, when the Ravenclaw student Hermione Granger expressed disapproval of such a violation of academic honor, Orion Potter became enraged in the middle of the dinner feast, violent and hateful slurs spilling from his mouth.**

 **What is perhaps most shocking out of all of this is the particular brand of insult he armed himself with in his quest to thrust as much hate and hurt as possible upon his fellow first-year. According to witnesses, he managed to string together in a single violent slur, derogatory comments towards young Granger's cleanliness, virginity, and worst of all, blood status. I'm sure many of you readers can imagine the particular insult he drew up against the muggleborn student.**

 **To have such filth not only uttered within the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but by The-Boy-Who-Lived of all people, raises unfortunate implications, not only about the state of the administration, but about the boy himself.**

 **Can we, as concerned and responsible citizens of Wizarding England, tolerate a school Headmaster that not only allows such slurs to be used within the school, but also continues to refrain from disciplining the student spewing such hatred and racism? That's right, according to school registers, despite the boy's countless and horrible offenses, Headmaster Dumbledore has yet to take a single point from the boy or assign him a single detention, even after this horrid affair. This reporter recommends that we write to the Board of Governors, demanding that action be taken. These children are the future of Wizard-kind. Do we truly want them growing up under such irresponsible authority figures?**

 **In addition to this, it raised questions about the student in question. It is well known that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named had very clear views regarding muggleborn witches and wizards. Does The-Boy-Who-Lived share these views? Did he perhaps inherit more from the man than a scar and hyphenated title? Is he the future Leader of the Light as Albus Dumbledore would claim, or is he perhaps heading towards a darker path? This humble reporter wonders.**

-Break-

Dumbledore placed the newspaper down on his desk with a sigh, reaching up and massaging his temples in a futile attempt to stave off a coming migraine. How could this have happened? He had the newspaper in his pocket! He owned by far the largest majority share, and had the other shareholders in a similar position to the Wizengamot: so intimidated and cowed that none of them would even think of acting against him.

So why was he reading such an inflammatory and harmful article about the heir to his legacy?

Evidently someone had gotten either to the newspaper itself or the shareholders. His daily correspondence from Gringotts giving him updates on the states of his stocks would be arriving soon. Perhaps that might shed some light on these dire circumstances. Already, plans were being drawn up in his mind on how to properly mitigate the damage this would inflict.

The first step would of course be finding out what exactly what had happened. After that, he would need to find the party or parties responsible, and then ensure that they ceased to be an issue.

A fluttering of wings drew his attention to the window, where a large and regal owl was bearing a letter marked with the Gringotts seal. After retrieving the letter, he almost ripped it in his haste to find out what treachery had occurred overnight. He nearly dropped it after reading its contents, his hand shaking violently.

Lords Ravenclaw and Slytherin had emerged once again.

The odds of something like this happening were so astronomical that he hadn't even considered the possibility, but here it was in plain black ink. Two individuals had emerged, apparently in an alliance of some sort, and together they held more political power than he did. The only recourse at this point would be to discover the identities of the two lords and win them over to his side. He doubted that Slytherin would be amendable, but the Light often appealed to the more compassionate Ravenclaws. Perhaps he'd be able to drive their partnership apart and play the two against each other.

No, that wouldn't do. With even a single one of the lords on his side, he would finally be able to rid the Wizengamot from the influence of Lucius Malfoy and the like. He couldn't afford to have the two destroy one another. Perhaps though this Lord Slytherin didn't hold the traits of his ancestors. If he was only recently discovered, it meant that he was likely only a distant relative of the original line, and would likely not inherit the Slytherin darkness and mindset.

Really, it depended on the individual personality of the two lords. If they were making their debut together at the Wizengamot together, he'd be able to meet them there.

He just prayed that they were reasonable, and amendable to the Light. After the Gringotts owl came another bearing a letter he dreaded.

It was addressed from the Board of Directors, headed by Lucius Malfoy.

Over the years, the two had arrived at something of a stalemate, with Dumbledore unable to remove Malfoy from the board, and Lucius unable to find grounds for removing Dumbledore as Headmaster.

With his attempts to keep Orion in the Light revealed, however, that tentative truce had broken. Reading the letter, he could see that Lucius had practically written his smug grin of victory into the parchment as he informed him that due to the sudden influx of angry owls and howlers from concerned parents, all disciplinary actions that had been waived for Orion were to be returned in full-force, with additional actions to be taken dependent on whether Orion straightened up his act. Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely.

Additionally, he was being placed on probation as Headmaster of the school, and any further infractions would result in his termination and subsequent replacement by a representative from the board.

Three guesses as to who that meant, and the first two don't count.

Dumbledore angrily crumpled the letter and hurled it into the fireplace. It was times like these that made him wish he still had Fawkes to calm him down, but his beloved companion had simply disappeared some thirty years ago, shortly after Grindlewald's demise. He'd searched high and low for the bird, but it had turned up fruitless. It was a mystery that still troubled him to this day.

Fortunately, he at least retained mastery of The Elder Wand. He'd been very concerned after his defeat at the hands of young Harry's familiar that the wand would switch its allegiance to either the maid or her Master, but it seemed that either the wand didn't register his disarmament as a defeat, or simply didn't register the maid herself as a combatant, since she'd not been ordered to attack him.

Sighing at the knowledge of what it would do to Orion's view of him as his mentor, he signed an order that reassigned the point deduction and detentions Orion had received since his start at Hogwarts, as well as sending around a mandatory memo that he would not interfere with any disciplinary actions taken against Orion.

Worse, he just knew that Severus would have a field day with this. While the man was an excellent Potions Master, his grudge against James Potter was still legendary, and it seemed to have carried over to Orion. Fortunately, at least young Harry was being left alone by the man. Perhaps when they'd gone Diagon Alley shopping together, they had reached some sort of accord.

Regardless, he was already preparing himself for an angry Orion marching his way up to his office for a confrontation, even if he knew that he'd be able to pacify the boy with whatever platitudes were necessary.

Perhaps... perhaps it would help if he could give the boy an enemy to blame it on? He originally thought of Hermione Granger, but any further antagonism of that particular student would only result in the school turning against Orion. Harry could work though. He was a Slytherin, and a Gryffindor starting a fight with one wouldn't be seen as anything strange by his peers, and would allow the Chosen One to blow off some steam. Afterwards, he would simply wave it off as sibling rivalry. It would be easy to convince the masses that Orion was under a lot of pressure, and that he was jealous of his brother for having friends, and being able to relax while he was forced to "train".

Also, hadn't the boy been there every time his brother was humiliated? It wouldn't be too hard to convince the young Orion that he was responsible for it, especially since he was in the house of schemers.

Not to mention, having antagonism from the future Leader of Light would make Harry consider his obviously dark nature. He'd talked to James and Lily about their confrontation with their errant son, and though Lily was accepting of him, he and James weren't quite as convinced.

Lily's theory that the boy's familiars were some sort of hybrid of humans and house elves was interesting though, and he'd have to give it further thought. If it were so, there were certain rituals that could alter the allegiance of a house elf, which might be useful here. Dark creatures that they were, but they'd also disarmed himself and his two most experienced professors when it came to combat. If he changed their loyalty to himself, he would have three very powerful tools at his disposal.

After all, leaving such beings with a child just seemed like a waste.

-Break-

Lucius Malfoy sat at his dinner table, glass of wine in hand. Sirius sat on the far side of the table, animatedly chatting with Narcissa, but Lucius didn't feel like getting himself involved in it. Someone was making moves within British Wizarding politics, and he didn't know who it was.

If there was one thing that he hated, it was an unknown variable. He was a man that dominated political circles, and having someone he didn't know trouncing about and successfully stripping the likes of Dumbledore of their power amused him as much as it irritated him.

So far, all he'd gathered was that someone within Hogwarts was making power-plays. He knew this because Lord Ravenclaw and Slytherin had bought up The Daily Prophet and published an article in Orion Potter's little indiscretion within hours of it happening. That meant the one who did it had to have been there for the news to reach him as fast as it did.

He also knew that Lord Ravenclaw-Slytherin was a single individual, because he'd had his suspicions and done some digging into the genealogy. The Malfoy family might not have been true nobility in England, but they had enough family tapestries to trace a family as old as that. He'd found where the two lines had merged, making the two families into one.

Under normal circumstances, he'd suspect a professor, but he'd sat on the Slytherin Prefect Council and knew that even a first-year Slytherin could do something like this if he had the assets of two founders behind him.

It was with this that his suspected candidate came to the forefront of his mind.

Harry Potter.

Severus had stopped by for dinner the night before the year started, and had advised with the air of someone "in the know" to keep an eye on the Potter heir. Knowing that his friend wouldn't make such a comment idly, he'd dug up everything he could on the boy, magical and muggle.

On the muggle side, apparently Albus Dumbledore had dropped the boy off with his muggle aunt and uncle after the attack on his home. Muggle police and hospital records indicated not only that the boy had been heavily abused, but that someone, likely Dumbledore, had interfered to ensure that no legal action was taken. After the age of six, however, police reports are filed by the school that the boy had gone missing.

Police looked into the relatives, but were forced to declare him "missing" rather than "murdered" due to lack of evidence, despite being fully aware of the abuse his relatives had inflicted on him and the likelihood that they had simply taken it too far and killed him.

After his disappearance, which was not registered with the Ministry or Aurors, he dropped off the radar for five years until he suddenly showed up at the Leaky Cauldron under the guardianship of one Kiritsugu Emiya, a pureblood wizard.

At this point, Severus took the boy shopping at Diagon Alley, though what interaction the two had was a mystery. All he got out of Severus was that the boy was someone he should pay close attention to. He didn't really understand what his friend meant, but Severus was far from being a fool, and for him to give such advice meant that there was something about the Potter Heir that truly interested him. Still, he had found nothing truly remarkable about the boy.

Not until the boy was sorted into Slytherin anyway.

Suddenly, things started making sense. The boy had been abused heavily by his relatives, and obviously knew that Dumbledore was responsible for it. He'd also been there at Voldemort's demise. If he was there at the death of the man who claimed to be the "Heir of Slytherin", there were any of number of magical means with which he could have inherited the man's supposed title.

That meant that if he was clever enough, a very rich and politically powerful eleven-year-old was in the middle of the tattered House Slytherin, poised to take it over. If he had the political power of two of the Founders' families for him, as well as the charisma and intelligence required, he would easily be able to gather followers, especially given how Dumbledore had ruined their families in a bid to make them "see the Light". Stupid fool. That would only throw them to the first person able to oppose him instead of swaying them to the old man's views. And Harry had everything needed to be that exact person.

Someone to keep an eye on indeed.

And the boy was clever enough if the actions he'd taken so far were true. He'd bought out The Daily Prophet and used it to attack Dumbledore and his own brother, and if he was clever enough to do that, it was also entirely possible that he'd orchestrated the entire confrontation. The Boy-Who-Lived had never stroke him as someone particularly intelligent, so it would have been easy for him to manipulate his every move until he was exactly where he wanted.

Of course, this was all conjecture. To truly confirm his suspicions, he'd need to meet the boy in person. He didn't trust Draco to get an opinion on the boy. His sorting into Gryffindor had been bad enough without him getting a detention on the first day of perhaps this was the shock his son needed to understand that money and influence did not mean anything when they weren't complimented by a sharp mind and a hefty dose of cunning. And who knows, if Draco managed to get his head out of his behind, he might even have a spy in Gryffindor.

Calling a house elf, he dispatched it to retrieve a quill and parchment. With it, he penned a letter addressed to the Potter heir, inviting him to dinner over the weekend. Such things were permitted for the pureblood heirs at Hogwarts, as they were expected to be politically active even during their education.

It was time for a meeting with young Potter.


	18. Chapter 18: Malfoys and Dursleys

**I return readers! I have not abandoned this story! This is my first real attempt at writing, so I was ill equipped to deal with many problems writers deal with, such as writer's block. Not to mention I suffer from occasional bouts of depression, which made it very difficult to write and finish this chapter. I could have finished this chapter early, but I didn't want to rush it. You have my deepest apologies for the delay with this chapter, and I hope that I can continue updating at least somewhat frequently.**

 **Several reviews and PMs indicate ask questions like "Harry is a True Magician, why doesn't he just do X?". The reason for this is that, despite his talent with certain, specific magus disciplines, Harry is still an apprentice. He doesn't possess Wishcraft like Illya, so if he wants to accomplish something with his ungodly amount of power, he still has to know how to do it. Really, the only areas of magecraft he truly exceeds in are those having to do with material manipulation. Zelretch is acting as his tutor in the remaining areas, but his attending Hogwarts is slowing that down a bit. Really, his specialties are things like alchemy, mystic code creation, golemancy, and the like. He can manage most other areas of magecraft, but only at relatively average levels.**

 **The Last Rider of Death: This magnanimous and mighty writer tells you that he tries to update weekly, with chapters about 8-10 thousand words, but as evidenced by this chapter, that might change.**

 **heartfanglives: Harry's about as powerful as he's gonna get. Really, the only things he can do from here to advance himself are learn new areas of magecraft and master his existing ones. Also, my problem with FG Harry wasn't his power, but that he becomes entirely inhuman and distant from the reader. I try to keep my Harry firmly grounded in humanity.**

 **cakesnake2.0: OVER 9000!**

 **Raidentensho: I will honestly admit that I do not like Kamen Rider.**

 **Akuma-Heika: That's not my personal belief that Snape is brave. I'm just going off the word of Rowling. Those are only because the U.S legal system is absolutely retarded at times. That's less wizard magic being a legitimate threat to him, and more the girls just being overprotective. Girls start puberty anywhere from 9-14. Even if it's already started, it hasn't taken hold enough to truly affect her.**

 **C.C: I don't say Harry is the only Lord in existence, but the two founder rings he possesses are literally older than Merlin. That would make them pretty damn powerful. Most Lord rings have magical abilities, but not to that degree. Really, I only included the poison bit so that I wouldn't have to write that he checked his food for potions every damn time he eats.**

 **Thundramon: Harry will just use the excuse that he's trying to turn Lucius "light", and using his position in Slytherin to do it. Don't worry, Draco will be coming after Harry the second he learns of the status quo in Slytherin. Archer is becoming the regent for both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Dumbledore doesn't know what Kiritsugu looks like. They haven't heard about it yet. This Snape still has a thing for Lily, but the younger Lily that was his friend when he was a child. He still acknowledges that the current one isn't the same as his old friend.**

Chapter 18: Malfoys and Dursleys

It wasn't until the end of the week that the first years had their first flying lesson. It was a lively affair, with the Slytherins and Gryffindors once again being inexplicably paired up. Honestly, he thought that Dumbledore was just doing it for giggles as this point, especially with Orion in the the man didn't see that pairing the Snakes and the Lions together just served to make them hate each other even more instead of creating "inter-House unity", he didn't know, but he had long since suspected the aged wizard to be going a bit senile and seeing only what he wanted to see. That or he was taking a perverse pleasure in antagonizing the Slytherins and reminding them that HE made the rules and that they should just listen to him.

The fallout from the newspaper article had been even greater than he'd anticipated. If rumors were correct, Dumbledore was already on administrative probation from the whole fiasco, with additional action pending. He'd also received a letter from one Lucius Malfoy, inviting him and the girls to a dinner, citing a desire for his son to get to know his future colleague in the Wizengamot. That excuse was a load of crock, however. To anyone that could read between the lines of the carefully worded letter, Lucius had deduced that power was shifting significantly within his former house _,_ and wanted to get a first-person account of the boy who was the fulcrum upon which it did. Also, from the fact that Lucius had known about not only Illya and Sakura, but Daphne as well spoke to the extent of the man's connections.

He recalled that Professor Snape had spoken of the consummate politician favorably, so he quickly penned a reply accepting his gracious offer, and informing him that, if acceptable, he'd be bringing three Servants. For a traditional Lord, such a thing would be deemed acceptable, though it typically meant house elves rather than actual human maids. His parents would be upset at his accepting the invitation, but he was sure the he could come up with _some_ excuse. Maybe something ridiculous like trying to turn the Malfoy head to the Light or something. People like Dumbledore and James ate shite like that up. Naïve fools.

Another side-effect of his little press insurgency was that the school had also turned its ire further towards the Headmaster, while the Slytherins who already despised him, also began respecting Harry a lot more, since the plan had been pure Slytherin, cunning, ambitious, and more than anything, subtle enough that nobody could trace it back to him. Most of them wouldn't have worked out that he was fully behind the newspaper article, but they had mostly worked out that he'd orchestrated Orion's outburst, and probably also suspected that he'd sent a late-night owl to the Daily Prophet, informing them of the events.

Either way, they were preparing to follow in Daphne's footsteps and swear themselves to him, relatively soon he imagined.

Speaking of Daphne, it seemed that his entourage had grown by one. She'd scarcely left his side since her oath, and was demonstrating similar behavior to a slightly less crazy Bellatrix Lestrange, at least from what he'd seen of the woman in Tom Riddle's memories. While his right hand was firmly taken by Sakura, she had obvious deigns on his left and wanted to get it before the rest of Slytherin made their move.

It was a sentiment he appreciated, if nothing else. From what he'd seen so far, she'd make an excellent second-in-command for his quickly forming army of Slytherins. For a first-year, she was extraordinarily intelligent, magically powerful, and perceptive. She was exactly what he needed if he was to form an organization of the most cunning and ambitious wizards in England. She had everything needed to keep his future followers in check, the only element she lacked, the power to carry on her eventual threats, something that could easily be resolved by assigning one of his maids to help her.

Normally, he would have given Sakura the position, but she didn't _truly_ possess the attributes needed for the job. While she could be ruthless and downright scary at times, those were mostly situations regarding himself. The rest of the time, she was the same sweet, innocent girl he'd grown up with. Not to mention, he didn't want to involve her in something like this. She had seen enough bloodshed in her life, and he wouldn't be the one to ask her to commit more.

Daphne on the other hand was perfectly happy with killing and torturing. It was what she'd been raised and trained for after all. Harry himself had his own taboos about killing, but they weren't exactly within the norms of society. He wasn't the sort to kill randomly left and right like Tom Riddle had done, but he would kill anyone that became too inconvenient and he couldn't deal with any other way easily. Even out of his Servants, the only one with anything resembling a moral compass was Saber, and even she valued his protection and safety over her personal code. She also knew that he would never ask her anything that would go against said code, so she closed her eyes when it came to the more ruthless aspect of her Master. Archer was far too jaded to possess much of a code these days.

This may make him seem callous or even downright evil, but he wasn't truly _evil_. When someone undergoes the hellish treatment at the hands of one like Zouken, one of two effects will happen. Either one will end up shattered and barely holding it together like Sakura, or one will become broken, reformed, and hardened like Harry. Really, Zouken had simply resorted Harry's priorities, making him very protective of his inner circle and not much else. Unless he bore a personal attachment to a particular individual, killing them was a very viable option for him. There was a reason that all of the Servants he'd summoned personally were monsters of some description, physically or metaphorically.

Aside from all of that, he was having a very good week. Flying lessons had gone about as expected, with the instructor, Madam Hooch as she insisted to be called, bearing a rather obvious bias against the Slytherins. He concluded that the first thing he'd do after gaining control of the house would be to launch a massive PR campaign in the name of reshaping the house's reputation. The fear and distrust the rest of Hogwarts regarded them with would be detrimental to his future plans, not to mention how ridiculous things were. Teachers regarding eleven-years old as future Death Eaters without even _trying_ to show them some kindness was on a level of stupidity he had rarely seen. Anyone with a brain could have worked out that they were just children in need of mentoring, instead of monsters that should be scorned.

Ironically, the only Gryffindor she hadn't treated well was Orion, who was still on most of the school's shit lists. After Lily had dragged the boy off, he'd sent Assassin after them to watch the ensuing catastrophe, and he had not been disappointed.

Lily had laid into her youngest son for three full _hours_ , well past dinner. At one point, the stupid little git had even had the audacity to make a ham-fisted attempt at _defending_ his words, which had caused his loving mother to fully backhand him across the jaw, quickly shutting him up. Even James had been shocked at his son's use of that racial slur, though he still foolishly attempted to intercede on the boy's behalf. He quickly found himself in the doghouse as his wife's ire turned to him as well.

It was times like these that made Harry think he really needed to invest in a pensieve, even if the lake in his Reality Marble operated on a similar principle. With a pensieve, he could take Illya and Sakura with him too. He was pretty sure that both girls would enjoy the scene a lot.

The flying lessons had come to a head however when they'd first stepped up to their brooms and prepared to mount them. Just looking at them, Harry could tell that the majority of them were dangerously unsafe, and in dire need of replacement. A quick flash of Structural Analysis confirmed this, revealing that the magic that made the brooms operate had practically worn off by this point. He mentally made a note to point that fact out to the Daily Prophet for a future article. Given the money paid for Hogwarts' tuition, the school more than had the money necessary to replace them. Why Dumbledore hadn't done so was anyone's guess, but he would bet that the old man either was too busy advertising the Boy-Who-Lived to care, or had forgotten altogether. Premiere magic school in the world his True Magician's ass.

Not wanting any of his friends to get hurt, he sent small, snake-like tendrils from Panzer out through the grass to the brooms of himself, Sakura, Illya, Daphne, and Neville, conducting prana through the metal and recharging the flying implements. Before the Professor could blow her whistle though, Neville was stricken with a sudden bout of nervousness and accidentally kicked off with his broom, rapidly ascending to dangerous heights. The broom flew around like it was in a hurricane, before slamming into the walls of the school roughly fifteen meters above the ground.

Harry acted quickly, slipping out of sight from the rest of the class and touching both of his hands to the ground. His alchemical arrays, hidden by Panzer, glowed and transmuted the ground Neville was about to land on into a deep mud pit. Since it'd been raining heavily the last few days, nobody would question its presencetoo much. The boy would be dirty and humiliated, but mostly unharmed. And he was pretty sure that his friends would prefer some humiliation over broken bones.

Neville came out of the pit completely soaked in mud from head-to-toe, and with a slight limp. Madam Hooch quickly rushed over to the boy, and diagnosed his injury as a simple sprained ankle. She slowly began ushering the boy in the direction of the hospital wing, though not without delivering a rather pointed warning towards the Slytherins that no brooms were to leave the ground during her absence.

Once again, Harry was reminded that wizards were not the most intelligent kind of people, as he could tell that leaving to groups of excitable eleven-years old unsupervised, two groups who _hated_ each other, could not end well at all. Why she hadn't simply called a House Elf to take Neville to Madam Pomfrey, he didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care, but it showed less than stellar intelligence on the teacher's part.

Predictably, she had threatened the wrong house, as the instant she left Draco Malfoy produced Neville's Remembrall from where he'd dropped it, sneering that he was going to flush it down the toilet. At this point, Orion decided that it was a good time to make his attempt at winning back the favor of his house.

Orion was not the sort to tolerate being shown anything but the utmost respect and admiration, sort of like Gilgamesh in a way, but without the actual power or skill to back up his claims and threats. Having the house that was supposed to be _his_ giving him the cold shoulder, and even being openly hostile at times, was just too much for him to bear. In his mind, the obvious way to reclaim his standing was to challenge the only one in the house that rivaled him for unpopularity: Draco.

Of course, his execution was absolutely horrible. Without the newspapers editing his every word and spinning any story involving him in his favor, he had no idea how to project the Savior of England image that the public had fallen in love with. This resulted in his attempt falling somewhat flat, though it did succeed in picking a fight with Malfoy.

The boy quickly challenged him to a contest of brooms before jumping into the air and taking off, quickly pursued by Orion. The two Gryffindors had what looked like an aerial dogfight, sweeping by and nearly hitting each other with every bout. He had a slight edge though, as while Lucius had arranged for Draco to have the occasional flying lesson, James was a Quidditch _fanatic_ , meaning that Orion almost knew how to ride a broom before he could walk.

After about ten minutes of rapid back-and-forth, Orion managed to get a lucky jab in and snatch the Remembrall from Malfoy's pocket, quickly descending the ground. It was at this point that Professor McGonagall came rushing out of the building, grabbed Orion by the hem of his robes, and pulled him inside.

It wasn't until later that he learned that she had, instead of punishing him, placed him on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. A truly wicked smile came across his face at this tidbit of information.

The things he could do with this. It was almost too easy…

-Break-

As the weekend finally rolled around, Harry was growing excited. This would seem highly atypical to any who knew him, but he had a reason.

The weekend meant that he could finally start his campaign of terror against the Dursleys, and he could be a hell of a lot less subtle about it than he was at Hogwarts. He'd already sent a message to the Daily Prophet, instructing them to write an article on Orion's illegal joining of the Quidditch team and to cite Dumbledore's further favoritism. His propaganda machine was happy to comply, though the article wouldn't be ready to print until the Monday morning edition.

Gathering up the girls and his Servants, he Kaleidoscope'd to Privet Drive for a little recon. If he was to drag this out, he'd need a proper base of operations. He remembered Mrs. Figg, the old woman and apparently squib who lived directly across the street. Dumbledore had assigned her to keep an eye on him, which meant that she had to be _completely_ aware of the abuses he'd suffered under her watchful eye. Root, she'd even babysat him a couple of times and he'd tried to tell her about it, but she'd just dismissed him.

Now he knew why.

Knocking on her door, she barely had time to get a sound out of her surprised mouth before Daphne's Imperius Curse hit her and took complete control, reducing her to an obedient slave. She was instructed to act completely normally and to otherwise ignore their presence.

As he looked around the house Harry couldn't help but notice the _stench_ that came from having too many of the damn felines in a close proximity. He also remembered that the sadistic little demons had taken a particularly vicious pleasure in using him as a scratching post whenever their owner had babysat him. Smirking, he called up the Kaleidoscope and shipped them off to Hogwarts.

Right into Fluffy's room.

He'd honestly need to come up with a better name for the Cerberus that had recently come to see him as her Master, but "Fluffy" was the only name Illya could come up with on short notice. Honestly, what was it with his little sister and finding enormous, monstrous creatures "cute".

Fortunately, she _would_ get to keep the animal, as his frequent and extended visits combined with similar training techniques to the ones he'd used on Prim had quickly won the beast over. After taming the Beast of Gaia, a Cerberus was chump-change. Dumbledore would be in for a nasty surprise next time he tried to play some music for the animal and nearly get eviscerated for the trouble.

With the detestable cats gone, he, Daphne, and Caster began shooting cleaning spells around the house, transfiguring the furniture, and using some space-expansion charms. When they were finished they had a decently-sized and well-decorated little base to watch the chaos ensue.

His first step was to take a poke around the house to see what had changed since his last stay there. Not much, he imagined, since the Dursleys had detested change in any form. The _only_ change he believed they would accept was to change their car for a newest one, since they needed to be able to boast about the vehicle. It was one of their many, _many_ guilty pleasures.

All of the Servants but Berserker and Archer deastralized in Figg's house. Berserker didn't because even with the charms he was simply too big to fit inside most modern houses. Really, the Servant was just too violent and unsubtle for any use but combat or intimidation. The only real time he got to fully manifest at Hogwarts was when Illya threw a tantrum, wanting to "play with Berserky!". In addition to the Servant of Madness, Archer didn't materialize because he wasn't there, instead attending his first Wizengamot meeting as the Ravenclaw-Slytherin Regent. He really hoped the Servant would share the memory, he could already tell that it would be the stuff of legends.

He pulled out his wand and cast Notice-Me-Nots on himself and the girls.

Now sure that they wouldn't draw any attention, he and his companions stepped out into the street and made their way to the house directly across.

Number 4 Privet Drive.

He had no good memories of this place, only ones of beatings, cupboards filled with spiders, Marge's dogs, Harry Hunting, and starvation. As they stopped outside the door, he felt Sakura give him a tight hug, burying her face in his chest. Illya repeated this on his side, followed by the maids, then by everyone but Daphne and Saber. Saber hesitated a brief moment, before jerkily joining the hug as well. Daphne stayed back. This sort of public display of love wasn't her thing. She was one for... _intimacy,_ not to mention it would be improper for one in her position.

Once they were done having their moment, Harry knocked on the door of the house. In a repeat of across the street, the second it was open Daphne hit Petunia Dursley with an Imperius and then forced her aside. The same process was repeated when Vernon came around the corner wanting to know what all the fuss was about. Activating Panzer, Harry sent search tendrils throughout the house to find his cousin, who was shortly dragged kicking and screaming by the metallic tentacle wrapped tightly around his ankle.

He turned to look towards the two owners of the house, his aunt and uncle. If anything, his uncle had only gotten fatter in the five years since he'd seen him, and his aunt skinnier. Neither change really did them any good. He felt as if he had just stepped in a zoo, what with his "Uncle" looking like a walking oversized walrus, and his "Aunt" a sneering, underweight giraffe. Dudley, for his part, looked like…well a pig, since he didn't have the mustache to look like a walrus.

Daphne moved them over to the couch and sat them down. Harry felt nothing but hate when he looked at them. They were two regular people, presented with their orphaned nephew, and instead of taking him in and raising him like the son they should have, they locked him in a cupboard and treated him like a freakish slave for six years. As his anger boiled, he had to both restrain Berserker and himself. The combination of the two almost distracted him from the tiny black hairs wrapping slowly around his entranced relatives' throats.

"As pleasurable as that would be," he told Assassin without looking at her, "I have greater plans for them."

Instantly, the tendrils retracted as his quiet Servant bowed her head in apology, though he could see her displeasure at being unable to personally enact her Master's vengeance. He could feel from all of his Servants a deep desire to slaughter his aunt and uncle; even Saber's sense of justice was telling her not to let the child abusers live.

Unfortunately for the Dursleys, he had an even better plan.

Rising, he went to look at his old bedroom, that is, the cupboard under the stairs. Upon opening it, his first thought was that the Dursleys were idiots. They'd been the subject of a police investigation after his disappearance and hadn't even bothered to clean up the evidence. His bloody smear on the floor that had been his "bed" was still exactly where it had been, as if he'd never left. Apparently the police had been unable to get a search warrant for the house, or if they had they'd assumed like any reasonable person would that the second bedroom filled with toys was for the second boy, instead of the cupboard, when in fact it was simply the first boy's second bedroom.

A smirk rose to his lips as he turned his gaze back to his relatives.

He had so many _plans_ for them. It had been one of his favorite past-times during those long nights in the worm pit, plotting the demise of his _loving family,_ but with his new leaps and bounds with magic, his new plan took the cake.

The primary reason his relatives had abused him so, besides their psychopathy that is, was because they feared him turning into a _freak_ like his mother and father had been. They lived in fear of magic, and thought that if they made him fear being a _freak_ enough, that he would never manifest any magical abilities or talents, making him "normal".

Now wouldn't it just be a shame if Dudley found himself suddenly implanted with an unrestrained magical core?

Smiling grimly to himself, he had Rider clear off the massive kitchen table with a single sweep of her chain. With a crash, the tremendously expensive china covering the table shattered on the floor as more tendrils of Panzer took Dudley by his four limbs and stretched him out painfully like a star. His screams tore through the house as he was slammed forcefully on the table, which groaned and bent slightly under his immense weight.

Harry raised his hand, which took on an unearthly white glow as he channeled the Heaven's Feel to alter Dudley's soul in such a way as to permit a magical core. He had never done this personally, but he had seen Zelretch preform procedures similar to it, so he figured that he could at least eyeball it.

"Now Duddykins," he warned his cousin, "I feel it fair to inform you that I have never done this before. So this is likely going to hurt quite a lot."

Dudley's watery blue eyes widened in horror as he redoubled his thrashing, sending panicked looks towards his parents who were sitting dimly on the couch under the Imperious Curse.

With an uncaring roll of his eyes, Harry thrust his hand into the center of his cousin's chest and the boy writhed in silent agony as his very soul was rewritten and magic forced its way into his system. After several tense minutes of flailing, the light died down and Dudley went limp with exhaustion.

He was about to simply obliviate his relatives and leave, but he couldn't ignore the sadistic looks most of his Servants were sporting when they looked at his Aunt and Uncle. While it wasn't really his style, who was he to stand between several beautiful women and a sadistic outlet? He did know quite a bit of healing magic after all.

Several hours later, all three members of the Dursley family found themselves in a slight daze in their living room. They had hazy recollections of the last couple hours being comfortably mundane, but couldn't shake a feeling that something dreadful had happened. Shrugging it off as something they ate, Petunia set about preparing dinner while Vernon and Dudley kept watching the television.

If only they knew what had been done in that brief span of hours.

-Break-

Feeling immensely pleased with himself, Harry teleported with the girls away from his hated childhood home and to Hogwarts, arriving with a swirl of colors in his dorm room. Back in hostile territory, the Servants astralized once again, though Rider let out a disappointed purr at having her _fun_ with the Dursleys ended. That woman had a sadistic streak in her that was only matched by Assassin when ordered to, which was a scary thought. He recalled that both Servants possessed "A+" Rank Torture among their skills, and was just happy that they were both very devoted to him.

The only one who hadn't truly enjoyed the little trip was Saber, but even she had grown up during the Middle Ages, and had seen her fair share of torture. Though she disapproved of it as a whole, she wouldn't deny that the Dursleys had worse coming to at least Dudley had been mostly unharmed, since his future status as a "freak" ensured he would not be living a happy life.

Changing out of his muggle clothes, Harry put on the formal cloak he'd purchased, and had the girls dress appropriately as well. Tonight was his dinner with Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, and apparently his Godfather, Sirius Black. He'd already made arrangements with Snape for him to escort them down to Hogsmeade and through the Floo network to the Malfoy manor.

He couldn't help but notice that many of the upper-year Slytherins were both reserved and respectful as he passed through the common room on his way to the Potions Lab. One seventh year girl had even opened the door for him as he passed, head ever-so slightly bowed. As the most experienced Slytherins, they could feel the wind of change when it was coming, and would act accordingly. The whispers were accumulating that the council had made its decision, which meant that Harry Potter was to become the new Lord of Slytherin. He could also note that some of them bore the slightest narrowing of the eyes when they looked at Daphne, who was walking at his side. It seemed that they were displeased to see such a young snake taking a place so prominent.

Ignoring them, Harry navigated the winding halls of the dungeons until he was once again at the perpetually-smoky door that marked the entrance to the Potions Lab. Inside was Snape's office, where he usually spent his time on Saturdays to catch up on paperwork. Harry knocked, and only had to wait a brief moment before a sour-faced Snape opened the door, his visage brightening about as much as it could given his complexion, upon seeing that he wasn't about to have to deal with another irritating student, but instead his new favorite pupil.

He ran an analytical eye over the group, inspecting their clothes and hair for anything that would be deemed unseemly for a Pureblood dinner. Once they passed inspection, they exchanged polite pleasantries as they worked their way out of the school and down to the nearby village. Harry personally found Hogsmeade a bit impressive for a village that had essentially sprang up around and economically relied on a _school_ , even if it was essentially the only center for magical education in Great Britain.

Snape led them to a cheery tavern called The Three Broomsticks _._ Harry noted that it was in certainly better condition than The Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps all of the student traffic helped keep the place in better repair. Snape exchanged a polite nod with the barmaid as he placed several coins in a jar placed above the fireplace. He reached into a pot next to the jar, and withdrew a pinch of green powder, which he promptly threw into the empty fireplace.

With a rush of air, a sickly green fire erupted in the hearth. Turning to address his charges, Snape once more resumed his strict teacher persona.

"Alright, do any of you _not_ know how to use the Floo network?" A blushing Sakura raised her hand, followed by Illya. Snape nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"It's relatively simple. Take a small pinch of powder; step into the flames, don't worry, they won't burn you; and throw the powder down while _clearly_ stating your desired destination. Once you're away, be sure to take a step forward as quick as you can, so that you do not fall upon exiting. Potter the Superior, Greengrass, you two are first."

Grabbing Daphne's hand, Harry grabbed a generous pinch of the powder from the jar and tossed it at his feet while enunciating as clearly as he could, " _Malfoy Manor_."

Suddenly, Harry felt as if he'd been shot down a waterslide, endlessly falling down a long and dark tube. Remembering his instructions, he put one foot out as if he were normally walking. The second he did so, light returned to his vision and he found himself gracefully stepping out of a fireplace and into an ornate sitting room. He could only note a single man with shaggy black hair before the fireplace flared up again and revealed Sakura and Illya popping out, only slightly stumbling. He reflexively spun and caught the both of them, earning a massive blush from Sakura and a delighted smile from his sister. A brief moment after that, Leanna, Monica, and Joy joined them, their physical nature as homunculi granting them the grace required to easily manage the dismount. Finally, Snape himself strolled out, glancing at the grand yet warm interior of the manor like it was home, his hard face visibly relaxing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry barely had time to react as a black-garbed figure charged him from the opposite side of the room, making a flying leap once it'd closed enough distance. Fortunately, it was intercepted by Leanna and Joy, who viciously intercepted the threat to their Master. The room physically shook as the man impacted the magically-reinforced floor, groaning in pain as he did so. Monica had already drawn her staff and taken a protective stance in front of Harry.

All of this took place in the span of about a second.

A slow applause coming from a doorway to the left resulted in the amassed group turning in its direction.

Another wizard stood there in dark black robes, holding a black staff with the top fashioned into a snake head with one hand while clapping the other against it. The man had a pale, pointed face and bleach-blonde hair, making it clear to him exactly whose father this was. Harry took a step out from behind a reluctant Monica, stepping casually over the man still pinned face-first against the floor.

"Lucius Malfoy, I presume?" he said in the way of a greeting. The man's lip twitched in amusement as he looked towards the man his maids were still restraining, with a look in his eyes that said he'd wanted something like that to happen for a very long time. The man's pale grey eyes quickly focused back on him, a polite smiling forming on his face.

"Indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter. If you wouldn't mind though, could you have your familiars release my wife's cousin? Amusing as it is to see him humbled so, I believe she would prefer to discipline him for his breach of etiquette in person," he drawled casually, completely aware of the utter terror he had placed within the man on the floor, who immediately began shaking in abject fear. Then, it seemed that the man remembered something, as he attempted to once more leap to his feet, halted by the iron-like grips of the two women holding him down.

Unable to move, he tried speaking, an effort which was stymied by the thick carpet his head was being painfully pressed against. After observing for a moment and deeming the man a non-threat, despite his actions, Harry motioned for his maids to release their victim, which they obediently complied. Stepping back, they took their usual defensive positions around their charge, once again assuming the guise of completely harmless maids. Lucius couldn't help but be impressed. He wondered where the boy had gathered such beings, and how he had attained such loyalty from them. He would have to ask where he would be able to find others like them, as they were certainly a step-up from House-Elves, and more appealing physically.

Sirius Black instantly leapt to his feet, freed from his bindings. His eyes once again locked on Harry, but the subtle tensing of the maids dissuaded him from an immediate second attempt at a flying hug. He took a step back, his eyes taking in the group his Godson had gathered around him, growing increasingly amazed at each female the boy had gathered. It warmed his playboy heart to know that already his beloved Godson, who was like a nephew to him, was already following in his footsteps.

Lucius looked back and forth between the two, before finally speaking, "Ahh, Mr. Potter, allow me the _honor_ of introducing you to Lord Sirius Black, Heir of House Black, and more importantly, your Godfather."

Still slightly wary, Harry looked his father's former friend up and down for signs of hostile intent or deceit, before it clicked in his mind that the man's initial exuberance had been an attempt at a hug, not an attack. He mentally ordered the maids to treat him cautiously, but friendly. A brief second later, the man seemed to lose his composure once again, leaping at Harry with his arms outstretched and tears in his eyes.

This time Harry let the man approach, and was soon enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. His mental connection with Panzer alerted him to the activation of defensive protocols, and only his quick shutting down of the process kept Sirius' arms connected to the rest of his body. He honestly needed to modify the reactive armor somewhat to make it more suitable for civilian use, not activating at any unknown contact, but that was a project for another day. Right now, his concern was the thirty-something man currently sobbing into his robes, wailing apologies.

Harry had of course done his research prior to meeting his Godfather. One Sirius Black had been born to Orion and Walburga Black, two Pureblood traditionalists and Supremacists. While the Blacks were a mighty and respectable family, generations of inbreeding had led to... less than favorable genetics. Because of this, the last generation had picked up on the same Pureblood Supremacist ideas that Voldemort had latched on to and built his power platform on. Fortunately, being raised in a house with such zealots had caused an adverse effect on Sirius, instead causing him to reject and abhor Pureblood dogma. This carried over to Hogwarts, where his beliefs and behavior caused him to be sorted into Gryffindor, marking him as a disgrace to his family but leading to his friendship with James Potter.

Internal family politics had battled back and forth, before reaching a cease-fire of sorts when Walburga had realized that disowning him would _truly_ kill the House of Black. Instead, she essentially disowned him in all but legal matters, promising the Lordship to his son, fully intending to live long enough to influence her future grandson with her values. Fate however intervened and she died before Sirius even got married. The Lordship and House Assets had passed to Sirius, which he had grudgingly taken. While House Black was most certainly a dark family, it was also an old and respected one, and even Sirius had enough Pureblood in him to recoil at the thought of letting his family stagnate.

After the assault on the Potter House in Godric's Hallow, he and James had had something of a falling out. When Orion and Harry had been born, the other three Marauders had been delighted. Since two of his friends were Purebloods, James had thought it acceptable to name them the Godfathers of the twins. Pettigrew had gotten Orion and Sirius Harry. Lupin had been promised that he would be the Godfather to the third child the Potters intended to had, little Ivy Potter. Shortly after Voldemort's demise, the political climate in England would not have permitted someone of James' status to make a werewolf a Godfather to his child.

Sirius had objected to his Godson, the boy whose well-being he'd been tasked with looking after, being spirited away by Dumbledore simply because raising him alongside Orion would be "inconvenient," but James would have none of it, which effectively ended their friendship. In a fit of spite, he got back in touch with his favorite cousin, Narcissa. She'd offered him a place in her home with her husband and infant son, which he'd gladly accepted. Of course, she had political reasons for this as well, but Sirius was also family.

With the help of Lucius, he'd filed numerous cases with the Gringotts goblins in an attempt to gain custody, but Dumbledore used the initial confusion over whom had betrayed the Potters to his benefit, and portrayed Sirius as a violent Death Eater spy, seeking to lash out against the Potters any way he could. Even after he'd been vindicated and Pettigrew locked away, the slander Dumbledore had arranged stuck with him, making it nearly impossible for him to gain traction in any court.

He hadn't even been able to find out where his former Headmaster had placed the boy. He'd considered Vernon and Petunia, but their hatred of their in-laws was so famous that he had immediately dismissed the thought, as not even Dumbledore would be that foolish.

Now it appeared that his overestimation of the ancient bastard had led his Godson to a terrible upbringing. It was for this reason that he was currently absorbed with crying into the boy's expensive robes, muttering rampant apologies for his failure, leaving Harry with such evil and abusive people. Snape had told him about it when he'd stopped by for dinner before school started, along with Lucius.

After finally wearing himself out, he composed himself and rose to his full height, still hugging Harry tightly. He looked down at the boy, remembering when he'd been such a small and innocent pup, not a growing boy already making political , he could hardly begrudge Harry for his behavior, as even he could understand that an abusive upbringing would leave scars on a child, making them much more cunning and determined to survive. Such things were _not_ what Gryffindors favored, so it was hardly a surprise Harry had been Sorted into Slytherin, and he would certainly not hold it against him.

He was damn impressed with the boy too. Just look at the babes he had with him! The three triplets were _smoking hot_. He idly wondered if he could turn up the ol' Black charm and talk one or three of them into bed. Not likely. Their expressions were completely blank, indicative of intense training, not to mention they'd completely kicked his ass. On second thought, perhaps a modicum of respect was to be used around these women. He _really_ didn't want to know how they dealt with unwanted suitors.

Oh who was he kidding, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

Aside from the maids, his Godson also had three younger girls with him, who while far too young for him to be attracted did bear the beginning of what would undoubtedly be beautiful women. Already, he was a hit with the ladies, just like his old Dogfather. He'd have to give Harry "the Talk", since it would be a good prank, revenge on the Potters, and a way to get closer to his Godson all rolled up into one. He couldn't wait to see the boy's face when he told him about the Wand and the Holster!

Taking a step back, he suddenly found that no words were coming to him. Ever since the boy's eleventh birthday had neared, he'd been planning this singular moment when he could reunite with that adorable little baby he'd grown so attached to in the brief year before Voldemort's demise, but as he looked at his now grown Godson, looking up at him expectantly, it was as if some blockage in his throat was preventing any sound from coming out.

"Hey, Pup," he finally managed lamely.

The silence was deafening.

Eventually, Lucius took pity on his tentative friend, clearing his throat to speak. "Well, it seems that I'm intruding on what I imagine will be a truly touching reunion. Dinner will be ready in approximately one hour, and I shall send a house elf to fetch you when it is. In the meantime, you can use the study through that door to catch up. I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about."

He then turned on his heel and departed the room, Snape giving Harry and the girls a brief nod before following in his wake and starting a quiet conversation with his old friend. Now that they were alone, Harry took a moment to gain some personal assessment of his Godfather. While from the evidence he'd either gathered or been told the man had no involvement with his abuse at the Durleys', that was purely secondhand information. Outside of his Servants, Sakura, and Illya, his was the only opinion he _truly_ trusted.

His Godfather was a tall man, with scraggly black hair that looked as if someone had recently attempted to make it look presentable. The black robes he was wearing had a disheveled appearance, like their wearer wasn't entirely experienced with putting them on or wearing them. His build was skinny and slightly haggard, as if he hadn't been taking care of himself for the past, say, eleven years. He had warm grey eyes though, which were the most telling parts of his appearance. In them, Harry saw a myriad of emotions being rapidly shifted through like scenes on a projector.

Joy, pain, sadness, heartbreak, and above all else, guilt.

He supposed that was to be expected.

"Let's take a seat and get some tea before we catch up Sirius," he said, "Actually, may I call you Sirius?"

For a moment, he thought his Godfather might cry as his smile lit up.

"Of course pup. Siriusly."

Oh dear Root **…**


	19. Chapter 19: The Stone

**Hello again internet! Neolyph here with more of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. I apologize that these chapters slowed down a bit. I got slammed by finals and the like. Hopefully, with summer break these will pick back up a bit. Also, I changed Dudley's birthday a bit to fit this story. Sorry. Anyway, enjoy!**

 **Review Extravaganza!**

 **Ashzaroth: As I stated, yes Harry is pretty OP for the Potterverse, which is why I'm going to do my best to throw him into universes where he might actually get his ass kicked. Potterverse is where he's going to chill inbetween adventures.**

 **heartfanglives: I've been using Arawn D Draven for that, but if he takes a vacation I'll keep you in mind.**

 **BijuuDamaBomber: Despite their flaws, I've always been a fan of the Harry Potter books. I'll at least finish out this year, though others might be abbreviated or ignored altogether. I have an idea if Harry needs to take an extended leave of absence.**

 **Bonestar: Initially, Sirius won't really know too much as Harry is slightly skeptical of him. I would consider the Tokyo Ghoul universe, but I could just never get into it. Some of the ones I'm considering are Sekirei, Highschool DxD, Heaven's Lost Property, Familiar of Zero, Avengers, Percy Jackson, Overlord, Campione, etc. No**

 **Araytigre: In Sirius' defense, he's been waiting to use that line since he learned Lily was pregnant and that he was the Godfather.**

 **Alexanderthegreat213: I do enjoy writing for you guys, and the reviews really help to motivate me. They are what make all of this worthwhile, knowing that I have fans enjoying my work.**

 **Alvor the Warhawk: Arawn is a great beta, but I also do my best to correct my own grammer. Maybe when Illya is older. Maybe. I love writing Assassin. Perhaps there's just something funny about writing a character that was so famous a killer as to be recorded in the Throne of Heroes. Harry's power increase will come from mastering his existing powers, though I will also be tossing him into universes where he might not be top of the food chain.**

 **Generatedname: I agree, this fic definitely has flaws. If I could go back and rewrite it from the beginning without pissing off my followers, I would. The point wasn't for the Potterverse to pose a challenge physically. Harry gets his kicks by being subtle and manipulative, which is why he chose the long-game when it comes to revenge. He wants to use a scapel, not a hammer. That's why even though he could just murder everyone he's got a nark on, he goes out of his way to be sneaky, because it** _ **is**_ **a challenge.**

Chapter 19: The Stone

Silence filled the conference room as Sirius was met with seven blank stares. He was... Siriusly starting to regret that joke, but by Merlin he'd been waiting to use that line since he'd first learned that he was being named Harry's Godfather. The silence was starting to get really awkward though, he thought as he idly tapped his thumbs together, feeling very much like back at Hogwarts when he'd make a particularly stupid mistake and would have to face McGonagall's withering stare. Seriously, the way Harry and his girl friends were staring at him reminded him far too much of a nonplussed McGonagall to make him comfortable. How could eleven years old have _that_ kind of stares anyway?

Meanwhile, Harry stared down his Godfather, trying to decide how much to tell him. He very much wanted to trust the man, but he really didn't know him. Not to mention, he could tell that this room was being listened in on by Lucius' house elves. Any information discussed here would instantly be relayed to the master of the house. Not that he didn't trust Lucius either, but he still had little measure for the man other than his shrewdness. Any Magus worth their salt was leery of giving away information when they weren't sure they'd be able to control how far it would spread, or how it would be used.

He decided on a minimalist version, essentially the general sales pitch he was going to give prospective allies in his quest against Dumbledore. It essentially detailed his hatred for Dumbledore, plan for revenge, and a tantalizing hint of his greater power. Maybe if he grew to trust Sirius more, he'd tell him more, but for the moment he refused to rush into things, so it would have to suffice. And given how chatty the man was, he wasn't sure he wouldn't blab the details by accident.

Sirius seemed rather receptive to the plan, perhaps it was the inner Marauder in him, or perhaps it was so much time living with Narcissa and Lucius. After reaching a tentative alliance, Sirius finally got out all that he'd wanted to say to Harry since he'd been spirited away by Dumbledore. He apologized, and after eleven years of beating himself up for it, received forgiveness from his Godson. It was clear that there would be a lot of work involved to get close to Harry, but it was a start, and more than what he'd hoped for in the first place.

After that, the meeting was just general catch-up session. Harry learned from Sirius that he was essentially just freeloading off the Malfoys these days, chasing anything in a robe that passed is eye. Lucius tolerated him with the good humor that came from dealing with eccentric in-laws while Narcissa did her best to keep a tight leash on her wayward cousin.

Once they were caught up, he introduced Sirius to Daphne, Sakura, Illya, and the maids. His eye twitched when the man burst into tears once again at the thought of his pup, "taking after his ol' dogfather so much". He continued his attempts at hitting on the maids until Harry had enough and intentionally dropped the spoon he was stirring his tea with under Sirius' chair.

Leanna, in a moment of obliviousness, instantly bent down and lifted Sirius' entire chair into the air with him in it so that she could pick up the spoon.

With one hand.

Sirius was nothing but a perfect gentleman after that until a rather dopey-looking house elf informed them that dinner was ready.

-Break-

The only one unhappy with Sirius Black living with the Malfoys was Draco. He didn't like the idea of someone who had turned away from Pureblood society coming back to it with absolutely no negative repercussions, but with his mother's tolerance for the man there was little he could do. She had tried to remind him that the Pureblood disgrace _was_ the Lord Black, but it would be a cold day in Hell when he'd consider acknowledging a skirt-chasing, pranking obsessed wizard as a Lord.

The blood traitor was bad enough, but now he had to deal with the other Potter invading his home.

 _Potter._

The name brought bile to his lips.

Every time he traced back his problems since coming to Hogwarts, the name Potter came up. It was like they were intentionally double-teaming him.

On his house front, he had been sorted into _Gryffindor_ , the house of the enemy. He'd attempted to establish dominance in the house, but had been stymied by the older students.

Nobody had told him that the older students would know better hexes than him.

When that had failed, he'd tried turning the most popular boy in the house, Orion Potter, to his side.

The insolent boy had spat in his face and laughed.

While uncouth, since the action had been taken against Draco, everyone else had laughed along. Of course, this was all before he publicly called Hermione Granger a mudblood. Now, he was somewhat glad his attempt to ingratiate himself with the Boy-Who-Lived had failed. All they would have done is make a coalition of the unpopular.

On the other front, the _other_ Potter, the unknown one, had been tossed into the house of the snakes.

 _His_ house.

Slytherin was supposed to be _his_. He'd planned it all out with his friends years before. With the money he possessed from his father, he could vassalize all of Slytherin House and rule over them like a king. He would take his rightful place as Lord Slytherin, or as close as he could get. Just like the Dark Lord.

All of that was ruined when the _other_ Potter was sorted into the house of the Snakes.

Initially, he'd found it hilarious. The Boy-Who-Lived's brother sorted into _Slytherin_? Within a day of his sorting, several more enterprising students had started a betting pool on how long he'd last. Draco had bet half his allowance, a substantial amount, on Potter being hospitalized or worse within two days. After that, he'd chuckled to himself and returned to his own problems. He'd considered the matter as a good distraction from his own not so stellar situation, one that he'd be glad to enjoy watching unfold.

At least, he'd ignored the other Potter until he started hearing rumors. He was of course Persona-Non-Grata with all of his old associates due to his sorting, but Crabbe and Goyle weren't. As vassals to House Malfoy, they were obligated to be sorted alongside him and could not be blamed for it. So when Crabbe came to him telling wild stories about Potter making power plays in Slytherin, he was understandably upset.

The boy was obviously using his familial connections to purchase the house just like Draco had intended to. There was no way the boy could win the house using guile or cunning. He was a _Potter_! Neither James Potter, nor Orion, possessed enough cunning to fill an ink-well. They were loudmouths who faced everything head on instead of trying to be subtle, so how could the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived be anything but like them?

And the bastards were just letting him do it! Did the Dark Lord's ideals mean nothing to them? Would they just blindly throw their lot behind the first one that came their way with enough money to save them, regardless of the fact that it was the very family that destroyed them? Had they lost all sense of pride to bow to a first year who belonged to the very family responsible for ruining their families? They weren't snakes anymore, not with that attitude, no, they were _dogs_ , eager to wag their tails for anyone, even someone they should be ostracizing!

It almost made him glad he wasn't sorted amongst such a disloyal lot. He was better off with wizards that knew their _place_ , like Crabbe and Goyle. Granted, he _would_ have appreciated a few others with an actual intellect in his circle, but hopefully in time that matter would be solved.

The final nail in the coffin though was his father inviting the boy over for dinner and not allowing Draco to eat with them, instead confining him to his room with a meal brought by a house elf. His father only did that when he was meeting important guests and didn't want to risk Draco ruining it.

That his father had gone and done this for Potter boiled his blood.

It was fine though, he thought as he fingered his wand.

He would get his revenge in time. He'd show everyone that despite his sorting, he was very much a snake, merely hiding as a lion.

-Break-

While the wizards ate and plotted, the muggles were celebrating.

"Oh just look at how grown up my little Duddykins looks in his new outfit!" cooed Petunia Dursley as she straightened her sons collar.

Today was Dudley's eleventh birthday, and since it was a weekend they were taking Dudley and his friend Piers Polkiss to the zoo. It had been such a nice, normal, positively mundane Saturday birthday so far. Dudley had woken up to his alarm at eight and promptly stormed downstairs to open his _precisely_ thirty-seven presents. He greeted his slightly haggard mother, who was exhausted as usual from having to wake up so early to make breakfast. If there was one thing she missed about the freak, it was that once they'd beaten him enough he had always awoken early to make breakfast and do all of the chores. With him gone, Petunia was forced to do some of them herself.

Shortly after Dudley, Vernon sleepily made his way downstairs and took his morning coffee, flipping open the newspaper. Once Dudley was finished counting his presents, nearly throwing a tantrum at finding himself a present short before Petunia hurriedly promised to buy him two more before the end of the day. Placated, Dudley tore into his breakfast while Vernon praised his son's voracious appetite. After breakfast, Dudley opened up all of his presents; well over a thousand dollars' worth of toys. Once he was done, Petunia gave him his birthday clothes, which weren't included in his regular presents as Dudley wouldn't consider them a "real" present.

"Quite right dear," remarked Vernon as he finished his coffee.

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of Piers and his mother, who exchanged pleasantries with Petunia before leaving her son in her care. Dudley ran over to greet his friend before all of them piled into the Dursleys' massive SUV and set off for the zoo.

The car ride was also comfortably mundane, with Dudley and Polkiss trading stolen trading cards in the back and Vernon screaming out the window at passing cars whenever they did something he didn't like. It was things like this that reminded Petunia of why she'd married the man, he was a nice, normal man, and yet was unwilling to let others walk all over him.

At the zoo, Dudley and Piers whined at the gate until Petunia brought them over to a nearby booth and brought them both large chocolate ice creams, much to their delight. As they toured the various pens, the two boys quickly grew bored and resorted to throwing things at the animals when Dudley's parents weren't looking. Their boredom was alleviated when they arrived at the reptile exhibit.

Dudley dashed into the cool, dark section of the zoo to find the biggest snake there. As he turned the corner, he saw a _massive_ snake sitting on the other side of the glass. He could just picture it eating his cousin, the freak. He pressed his fat face against the glass so he could get a better look. The glass fogged a bit, and he wiped it away with his sleeve to see that the animal was asleep.

How dare it? It was in a zoo! The only reason it wasn't killed was so that it could entertain people who paid to see it!

As he felt a tantrum build up, all he could think about was how much he wanted to march right in there and throw stuff at that worthless snake until it did something. He pounded his fists against the glass in frustration until a strange feeling welled up inside him.

And not the regular strange feeling. He'd just gone to the bathroom an hour ago.

The next thing he knew, he was falling forward. With an enormous splash, he landed in disgusting murky water. He opened his eyes to see two emerald green ones staring right back at him. For the briefest of moments, he thought of the freak's eyes. This thought was dismissed by a much more urgent thought. Or more a primal sound.

"AHHHHHH!"

Dudley rapidly backpedaled along his sore arse to reach the window he must have fallen though somehow. The only thought in his mind was getting the hell out of this cage with the man-eating snake. Despair welled up inside him when his hand met glass.

A low hissing sounded from behind him.

Slowly, he turned around to greet those two green orbs of malice. He couldn't help but dumbly freeze as the enormous snake seemed to size him up, before retracting and coiling back. Dudley sighed in relief, having never watched a nature documentary in his life.

The second his eyes closed, the snake struck.

An enraged hiss filled the air as several hundred pounds of enraged venomous snake flew through the air at the intruder in its cage. Dudley screamed once again and shut his eyes for the end. He just wanted the snake to be gone.

Several seconds passed before he realized that he wasn't, in fact, dead.

Tentatively, he opened his watery blue eyes to see a very angry fluffy white rabbit in front of him, gnawing on his XXL jeans. This proved too much for him and he passed out.

-Break-

"Now where the hell did that boy go?" Vernon thought to himself as he led his wife through the reptile house. His boy was just too inquisitive for his own damn good sometimes. The youngster was going to be the next Prime Minister if he kept being this studious. Vernon had been like that at his age, and look where it had gotten him. A nice, respectable position as a drill salesman with a loving wife, strapping young lad, nice home in the suburbs, and best of all...

No freaks.

He couldn't stand anything subnormal. Like _the_ freak. He'd tried to do the boy a favor raising him by disillusioning him to the thought of anything unnatural. And did he get any thanks? No. Instead he had police officers knocking on his door after the freak had disappeared, wanting to investigate "allegations of abuse" or some nonsense. Fortunately, a very nice solicitor had contacted them and offered to keep the police off their backs. What was his name again?

Fletcher, or something?

Regardless, the man was a miracle worker. The man filed appeal after appeal, and even at one point charged the local constabulary with harassment. He hadn't even asked to be paid! Only said that he represented "a concerned party". Well Vernon wasn't a man to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he just thanked the man and sent him on his way. He still got _very_ dirty looks from pretty much every cop in town, but at least they couldn't gather enough evidence to file charges.

Bloody rozzers. Interfering with how a man raises a child. They had no right. It was no wonder that their country was slowly losing its status as the epitome of dignity and greatness, if the bloody cops themselves were protecting freaks now…

It was at this point that Vernon realized he was so lost in thought that he'd stopped moving altogether. He shook he head to clear himself of thought of the freak when a very familiar scream echoed through the reptile house. He ran as fast as his obese legs could carry him to the source of the noise. He arrived at the snake section, wheezing heavily as he looked around for his boy, Petunia and Polkiss in tow.

A soft thump on the glass next to him caused him to turn his head and recoil in terror to see his boy on the _inside_ of the enclosure with a _massive_ snake coiling to strike. With a war cry, he charged the glass, but with the narrow hallway he couldn't get enough speed to break the reinforced glass. Time seemed to slow as the snake lunged at his beloved boy, getting closer, and closer...

Until there wasn't a snake. Right as it was about to bite Dudley, the snake shrunk down into a small white rabbit. Vernon stared dumbly for a moment, before he got angry. This smelled of _freakishness_ , it seemed centered around his boy. A terrified gasp behind him drew his attention to his wife beside him, hand over her mouth in shock and horror.

-Break-

Internally, Petunia Dursley was panicking. Her son, her beloved Duddykins, had someone gotten inside a locked and enclosed snake habitat and turned its resident into a rabbit. This was a lot like the accidental freakishness Lily had done when she was about... Dudley's age.

No. She wouldn't accept it. There must be a logical explanation for it. There was no way that Ickle Duddykins was a _freak_ like Lily. He was a sweet, intelligent, handsome young boy who simply _couldn't_ be a freak. Lily had once explained to her that the only way to be a freak was if you were... you were...

Related to one...

Still, she wondered why her darling son hadn't used his _gift_ before, but then she remebered that Lily's freakishness had gotten really bad right around the time she turned eleven. It had been there before though. Had her ickle Duddykins been hiding his accidental freakishness from them? Or had they just been giving him so much that he had no need to use it? She didn't know

All she knew was that this was not good. She hated freaks well enough, but Vernon _lived_ to rid the earth of freakishness. It was one of the reasons she'd married him. She'd just never dreamed that her own son would be a freak. She thought back on what she and Vernon had done to the freak that Dumbledore had dropped off to them and shuddered. If Vernon had done that to Harry... he might do the same to Dudley.

No, he _would_ do the same to Dudley. Her husband was very much a "suffer not the witch" sort of person. He seemed to have it set in his head that any problem a child had could be solved by beating it out of them, freakishness included. It was one of the reasons he deliberately never saw anything wrong with Dudley. If he did, he'd be obligated by his own nature to beat his own son.

If Dudley was a freak... a wizard... though.

Vernon might cross the line, and with all of the legal defense that Fletcher fellow had armed their family with the police essentially couldn't touch them.

Even if Petunia wanted them to.

She would have to distract him, or convince him that something else had happened; anything but the truth. But seeing the look in her husband's eyes she knew it was too late. She hoped that she could intervene and keep Vernon from doing something drastic.

-Break-

Sitting in the zoo director's office, Vernon tuned out the man's nervous mix of apologies and accusations as he tried to work out from the security feed both how Dudley got into the enclosure and how the snake which attacked him had been replaced with a rabbit.

Instead, Vernon watched the video closely as the wheels in his head, which were undoubtedly rusty and infested with cobwebs, began turning towards one conclusion.

His son, Dudley, a boy he loved more than any other thing on the planet, was a freak just like his aunt. This couldn't happen. Tuney had explained it to him once that the odds of someone without a freakish relative becoming a freak were astronomical.

But then again... Tuney had brought freak genes into this family.

And now they'd infected his son!

How could he have let this happen? Had he been so focused on making the other freak normal that he'd neglected his own son's freakishness?

In a haze he thanked the zoo director and promised not to file charges before carrying his unconscious son back to the car.

He would fix this, he thought. He would call doctors and specialists. He would throw as much money as it took to figure out the root of this freakishness and cure it. It had to be curable, because that was how the world worked. Normalness would win out over the freakishness. It had to. Because if it didn't... he'd be forced to take other measures.

-Break-

Dudley was scared. Ever since he'd gotten home the comfortable little status quo he'd built up in his home had been shattered. Both mummy and daddy seemed tense, giving him strange looks that they'd never shot in his direction before. When he'd woken up in the car on the way home, he'd originally thought he'd had a bad dream, right until he noticed the wet blanket he was draped in. Apparently, Petunia had been forced to call Piers' mother to come pick him up from the zoo.

His father was currently on the phone, yelling to someone on the other end. He caught a couple of scary words he didn't understand, like "specialist", "operate", "diagnosis", and "unique genetic disorder". Ironically, the only words he understood were the swears his father called whoever was on the other end of the line. Dudley couldn't help but notice how odd his father was acting. He was pacing back and forth and smoking a large cigar with his other hand. His father _never_ smoked inside the house, as his mother hated the smell and didn't want it to ruin her walls and furniture. The fact that his mother hadn't even mentioned it spoke to how distracted both of them were.

His mother was cooking dinner with shaky hands and a wary look on her face whenever she glanced in her husband's direction. Something was obviously bothering her, and Dudley couldn't help but think it involved whatever had happened at the zoo today. As much as it hurt due to lack of practice, he racked his brain trying to figure out what exactly had happened or what he'd done.

All he could remember was that strange feeling that overcame him when he wanted to go in the cage and give that snake what for. The next thing he knew, he was _inside_ the cage. It was like magic!

A quick glance at his father made him glad he'd not said that out loud. His father hated the "M word" and often flew into violent fits whenever his cousin used to say it. With his father's agitated state, it might just make him worse.

Finally, his mother announced that supper was ready, and the family ate somberly. Vernon had finally stopped arguing with whoever was on the other end of the phone by offering to pay "whatever it costs, just fix my boy!" This was what finally confirmed to Dudley that he was the cause of his family's strife.

After dinner, Dudley retreated upstairs to his first bedroom and played some of his computer games until his mother told him to go to sleep.

For some reason, as he laid in bed that night, he thought of the freak.

-Break-

Harry was feeling _very_ pleased with himself. Shortly following dinner with the Malfoys, he received an owl from Mrs. Figg informing him that Dudley seemed to have had his first case of accidental magic. He'd gone out with one of his friends on a birthday trip to the zoo, but when they came back early he was soaking wet, without his friend, and both of his parents were noticeably distraught.

To confirm it for himself, he quickly Kaleidoscope'd to the Dursley residence and Legilimenced his uncle into oblivion until he got the information he was seeking.

Dudley had teleported himself into a snake enclosure and then turned the snake into a rabbit!

For the first time since his birthday, he had a good, long laugh.

Oh this was too good. He'd hoped that Dudley would do something that would attract a lot of attention, but _this_ took the cake!

Safe with the knowledge that his cousin had, in fact, performed accidental magic, he took out a quill to initiate the next phase of his plan. Caster in particular loved this part of the plan. Just the knowledge of it seemed to make her friskier.

-Break-

Vernon awoke the next morning in a much better mood. It had been a full twelve hours since the incident at the zoo and his son was exhibiting no further signs of freakishness. Perhaps it had just been a one-time thing? Like leftover freak genes causing a single bout of freakishness in his otherwise normal and perfect little boy.

Feeling hopeful, he put on his slippers and made his way downstairs to eat the breakfast cooked by his lovely wife. He'd been a bit cross yesterday at the thought of his wife bringing freakish genes into his family, but so long as there were no effects, he just couldn't stay mad at her.

The first thing he did upon entering the kitchen was give his wife a morning peck on the cheek to let her know that all was forgiven before grabbing his morning coffee and plopping himself down at the table. As he sipped his coffee, he heard his son's heavy steps coming down the stairs.

"Get the newspaper, would you son?" he called out to his boy as he passed the front door.

"Dad, there's a letter too," Dudley stated several moments later as he came in with the newspaper.

This was strange. It was a Sunday. One of the comfortably mundane things that always occurred on Sunday was that there was no post. This was suspiciously... _unnormal_.

"Let me see it," he snapped, not wanting his morning ruined by strangeness.

Dudley extended an envelope. The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in an emerald green ink. It had no stamp on it, indicating that it was hand-delivered. The letter was addressed, " ** _Mr. D. Dursley, His First Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._** "

Vernon turned the envelope over, hand trembling. He saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. When Petunia turned around from the stove to announce that breakfast was ready, she dropped the skillet she was holding in horror.

She recognized that coat of arms.

 _That_ school. It was the symbol of _that_ school.

"P-P-Petunia..." Vernon gasped through his shaky breaths.

It was a Hogwarts letter.

-Break-

Harry laughed from Mrs. Figg's house as he watched the Dursleys' kitchen through a scrying mirror that Caster had enchanted specifically for this purpose. Sakura let out her own adorable little giggle at his side while Illya was rolling along the floor in hysteria. Rider and Assassin were maintaining their typical stoicism admirably, but Harry could read them well enough by this point to spot both the amusement and sadistic pleasure they were extracting from this. The maids were occupied with serving their charges tea while giggling slightly at watching their Master's relatives suffer.

Caster and Saber would be there, but Caster was still researching the stone he'd stolen and Saber stated that she wouldn't find the proceedings amusing. Harry knew that she disapproved of his course of revenge, but would go along with it nonetheless. She had sworn to be his knight, for better or worse, but he didn't want to force her into something she was uncomfortable with.

"I'd like to thank you again for delivering that letter so late last night Assassin," Harry commented, eyes still glued to the mirror.

"Something as insignificant as time is of no concern when it comes to fulfilling your will, Master," came Assassin's reply.

Harry smiled, but his own reply was interrupted by the Dursleys overcoming their shock.

-Break-

After shooing their son out of the kitchen, Vernon and Petunia plopped down at the kitchen table to grieve. This was it. This was the proof.

Their son was a freak.

"Vernon," Petunia began tentatively, slightly fearing the look on her husband's face, "what should we do? Look at the address! They know where he _sleeps_. You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us..." Vernon muttered wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-"

Vernon stood and began pacing madly throughout the kitchen.

"No," he said finally.

"No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything...

"But-"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Not even if it's our son! These people think in strange ways. If we just ignore it, they'll leave us alone and our son will remain a nice, perfect, _normal_ boy."

Both parents pretended to ignore the silent, " _or else"_ tacked on to the end of that statement.

-Break-

Unable to take further action against the Dursleys until tomorrow, Harry checked in on one of his other projects: the red stone. He, Sakura, Illya, and Daphne teleported to his dormitory where he found Caster in the midst of levitating the stone inside a _very_ elaborate thaumaturgical circle. The nature of the circle was beyond even _Harry's_ expertise, but he knew better than to interrupt something like this, so he waited for the glowing light to die down before greeting his Servant.

"Any progress?" he inquired.

Caster looked slightly ashamed at being stymied by a mystic code of all things.

"Not without further information as to this stone's origin or creator."

Harry nodded, deep in thought.

Perhaps it was time to follow Caster's suggestion several days ago and pay the Groundskeeper a visit.

-Break-

It took about half an hour for Harry and Co. to navigate to the section of the grounds where Hagrid had built his hut. It was situated right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, an area Harry had already made a mental note to explore for anything of strategic importance. Given what he'd heard, he might find quite a few specimens of interest in there, something that also interested Illya and Sakura, who were curious about magical species of animals.

Why the Groundskeeper didn't live in Hogwarts proper he didn't know, but it sure made things inconvenient for visitors.

The group of seven arrived at the doorway of the massive hut, paused for a second, and knocked.

A deafening barking resounding from inside caused Leanna and Joy to reflexively step forward to place themselves between Harry and the threat, but he stuck an arm out and motioned for them to stand down.

He had an inkling as to what was about to happen, and knew that letting it occur would make the hut's occupant far less wary of him and his companions.

Sure enough, a voice soon called out from inside the hut,

"Be with you in just a second! Back Fang! Back! What's gotten into you? Back!"

The doorway opened a crack, but that was all the animal inside needed as it bounded out and tackled Harry, pinning him to the ground and licking his face.

It reminded him that he needed to pay Prim and Midnight a visit soon.

Soon, a rough hand grabbed the enormous dog by its collar and dragged it off the visitor.

"Sorry about that," came a voice with a Scottish accent, "Fang's usually very polite with visitors. I don't know what got into him."

"It's alright," Harry replied as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dried his face with it.

This seemed to draw Hagrid's attention to his green-accented robes. His posture immediately stiffened and he reached inside his doorway for a... pink umbrella?

" _Be careful, Master. I can sense magic in that umbrella,_ " Rider cautioned him over their mental link.

Ah, so he saw Slytherin students and instantly reached for a weapon to defend himself. This was why he needed to rework Slytherin's image. This meeting wouldn't work if Hagrid felt that wielding a weapon at all times was necessary, so he reached up and started scratching Fang behind the ears. The dog plopped its head into his lap, drooling heavily.

Hagrid's eyes flicked between his visitors and his dog for several moments, before his shoulders relaxed a bit and he put the umbrella back into its stand.

"So, what can 'ol Hagrid do for ye?" he asked pleasantly.

Harry motioned for the dog to back off him and rose, brushing himself off.

"We were going around and meeting all of the staff at the school, and since we haven't seen you since the welcoming feast we thought we'd pay you a visit. Do you mind if we come in? It was a long walk down here and it's incredibly hot outside. We didn't really think to bring anything to drink either."

Hagrid seemed to trust Harry, but not his other visitors. He scrutinized them for a moment, looked at Harry, and finally made up his mind.

"Sure, c'mon in. Was just about to have afternoon tea and my kettle's big enough fer eight."

He stepped inside the doorway and led them to a large, handcrafted table with eight stools set up around it. Looking around, Harry noted that _everything_ in this house was enormous, and from the eight stools, Hagrid liked guests.

As Hagrid put the kettle on, Illya and Sakura started playing with Fang while Daphne sat next to Harry.

Both Harry and Hagrid got a laugh out of Fang bowling both girls over and alternating between licking them as they squirmed.

"Harry! Help me!" Sakura squealed from underneath the dog as it slobbered all over her.

"No Big Brother! Help me! It's ruining my hair!" Illya yelled as her inner princess was disturbed by the dog's licking messing up her hair.

"Fang," Harry finally commanded the dog, "come."

The dog lazily got off the two now thoroughly soaked girls and made his way over to Harry where he rested his head in the boy's lap.

Hagrid now seemed far more at ease, which was the primary reason Harry had let the dog go on as long as it had. He gave the dog a thorough scratching behind the ears as a silent, " _Good job_ ". Hagrid seemed to be a simple man, and very trusting of his dog's attitude, so letting the animal drool over them was the quickest way to get into his good graces.

A whistling came several seconds later and Hagrid served tea and rock-hard scones to his guests. Harry structurally analyzed one out of curiosity, deciphered its ingredients, waited until Hagrid turned around, and put it in his lap for Fang to eat. He then projected a second one for himself, but altered some of the ingredients so as to make it edible.

Sakura and Illya were both giving him attempts at glares for not saving them from Fang, but with their disheveled states they just turned into adorable pouts. He'd have to apologize later, but they looked truly adorable with the way they were shooting him betrayed stares, their hair sticking at odd angles and their robes covered in drool.

Harry started apologizing to them by waiting for Hagrid to reach into the cabinet for sugar and replacing their scones with edible ones.

The looks they shot him let him know that he hadn't gotten himself off the hook and that they would both be demanding extra kisses and snuggles respectively that night. At least it was a start.

Finally, tea was served to everyone and Hagrid plopped down at the table, taking a bite out of one of his scones with a disturbing crunch.

"So Harry I know from his sorting, but not the rest of ye. Slytherin, I take it, from the robes?"

"Yes," Sakura responded sweetly, "I'm Sakura Emiya. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Hagrid." She gave him that smile of hers that could make Satan coo and Hagrid couldn't help but grin broadly in return.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds for Hogwarts. Pleasure to meet you little miss."

"Hi Mr. Hagrid. I'm Illyasviel von Emiya, but you can just call me Illya," Illya introduced herself.

"And I'm Daphne Greengrass!" said Daphne, using a faux-bubbly personality. As an attractive blonde, she pulled it off rather well.

"Leanna."

"Monica."

"Joy."

The maids weren't ones for pleasantries with strangers on sheer principle. By remaining aloof and wary, it allowed their Master to get into character without seeming suspicious. It kept people suspicious and wary of them, while they saw Harry as less of a threat, and therefore opened up to him.

Over the course of tea, the children told Hagrid all about their first lessons, while he told them about his job as Groundskeeper.

"And Filch is a right old git," Hagrid complained, "spends all his time stalking around the third floor corridor looking for students coming to take a peek so that he can slap em with detention. Nobody even asked him to do it. I know he's doing it at all times too because he's always sending that mangy cat o' his to stalk me every time I go up to the castle because he doesn't want to leave the doorway. I'd like to introduce that mangy stray to Fang sometime."

"You know," Harry took the opportunity to ask his questions, "that corridor is attracting a lot of attention. I heard from Orion the other day that he managed to sneak in and almost got his leg taken off by a Cerberus of all things. Preposterous!"

Hagrid's face went white.

"Yer brother had a run in with Fluffy!" he yelled before he remembered himself.

Harry and the others put on fake confusion. "Wait, you mean there's actually a Cerberus? _Inside_ Hogwarts? What on earth could be _that_ important that you would need a Cerberus to guard it?"

"Now you listen to me kids, yer Slytherins, so yer supposed to be smart and know how to keep quiet. What that dog's guarding is none of yer business, okay? That's solely between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel-" Hagrid cut himself off.

"Should not have said that," he muttered to himself, "should _not_ have said that. Now Dumbledore's gonna kill me. Letting somethin like that slip to students... shameful is what it is..."

"Hagrid," Harry cut the mumbling Groundskeeper off, "it's alright. None of us really care all that much what's behind the door. It's not like we're Gryffindors and we're gonna go charging after it. We might even get in trouble just for knowing, so how about this? We won't tell Dumbledore if you don't tell Dumbledore. Alright?"

Hagrid looked so relieved it was heartbreaking. His eyes watered and he pulled Harry into a bone crushing hug.

"Thank ye Harry. That means a lot to me. I was really concerned with ye bein' Slytherin and all, but you and yer pals might just prove that they're not all that bad. Feel free to drop by anytime for more tea. I know Fang'd appreciate it."

Said dog gave a happy bark in response. The eager stare he was giving Harry told everyone just how much he appreciated being scratched by the young Sorcerer, but then again, he had a lot of experience with Midnight and Primate Murder.

With their tea done and information procured, the group departed from Hagrid's hut and went back up to Hogwarts.

"Why didn't you just read his mind?" Sakura asked as they trudged up towards the castle.

"I originally intended to, because I thought he hadn't received any magical education exceeding his third year, but he has a crude wand fashioned into an umbrella. That means he has at least some crude magical training going past his third year. If he does personal errands for Dumbledore and has magical training past his third year, he's likely been taught at least rudimentary Occlumency. I wasn't sure if I should take the risk. If he had practically any levels of Occlumency, he might have detected my probe and clammed up."

"Did I ever tell you that you're very sexy when you're being cunning, my Lord?" Daphne whispered flirtatiously in his ear.

" _I agree_ ," Caster said through his mental link, " _and you did procure some very valuable information. I think I should find some way to thank you, Master_."

" _I'll help_ ," Rider chimed in.

-Break-

With a new clue to research, Harry decided to devote the remainder of the day to researching it. His initial instinct was to go straight to the Hogwarts library and research it, but that might cause problems. One of the contingencies of Hagrid's silence on his little slip was that those he'd told remained quiet on the subject. If they had to spend more than a day researching and he wandered into the library or asked the librarian, they'd have to answer some uncomfortable questions and Dumbledore might get involved.

What he needed was a large depository of books outside of the Hogwarts sphere of influence. To that end, he and the girls assumed their adult disguises before teleporting to Diagon Alley.

He and the girls navigated through the various shops and stalls until they found what they were looking for.

Flourish and Blotts.

Normally, finding a keyword amongst such a large amount of books would take days, possibly weeks, but Harry had a secret weapon. He twisted the Ravenclaw ring on his hand while concentrating heavily on the name "Nicolas Flamel".

He opened his eyes and saw... nothing. Not a single mention of Nicolas Flamel in the entire bookstore? He knew the ring worked, he'd tried it out shortly after receiving it in the Hogwarts library. When it worked, little blue tendril appeared and led him to books, but... nothing?

Either a man who had made a stone like _that_ had never done anything the wizards found noteworthy, or someone had deliberately purchased all books with information pertaining to the man.

He'd have to find out who was responsible for this. He made his way up to the counter and politely greeted the bored-looking clerk manning the register. He asked as many asinine questions as he could to annoy the clerk until he could _feel_ the irritation coming from the man. At this point, most people with Occlumency would use it to calm themselves. Considering this clerk didn't, Harry felt safe in probing the man's mind for information on who had recently placed a bulk order for books, but wasn't a student.

The man didn't know, he'd only just started working there.

Smiling, he took a look around the store and, upon seeing that it was empty, motioned to Daphne, who cast the Imperius curse on the man.

"Now, sir," Harry asked him calmly, "may I take a look at your business ledger?"

"Sure thing," the clerk replied, reaching under the counter and pulling out a thick binder. This wouldn't do, Harry thought. He needed to narrow down the information.

"Tell me, how often do you restock your inventory?"

The clerk paused a moment, before replying, "The boss said bi-weekly or something, but I don't really know what that means."

Harry flipped through the ledger entries for the last two weeks, his finger pausing on a large order placed the week before school started by Albus Dumbledore. Looking at the books ordered, Harry knew he'd found his culprit. Half the books had the name "Nicolas Flamel" in them, and the rest seemed to be centered around either famous wizards or alchemy.

Now he needed to know what the man had done with the books. He motioned for Daphne to drop the Imperius Curse and quickly Obliviated the man, but not before placing a handful of galleons in the man's pocket for his trouble.

Harry led the girls out of the store and teleported them back to Hogwarts from the nearest back alley. He pondered where Dumbledore would store books bearing information he didn't want others to know, when Monica informed him that the man had an extensive library of books inside his office.

Well, it looked like he was going to have to do this the hard way.

-Break-

Assassin was in a very good mood. Her god had not only gained a clue to aid him in his research, but he had sent her on a mission to gather more. It warmed her heart to know that He trusted her that much, and resolved to do her utmost to fulfill his wishes.

She would not fail him.

It pleased her to no end how much he relied on her in certain tasks, such as delivering false letters to torment his relatives or breaking into his Headmaster's office to locate and disable and magical defenses.

She wished she could simply torture the Headmaster for the information and then kill him, but her Master had explicitly forbidden that.

And she would not disobey her Master.

It was child's play to her to infiltrate the office. She didn't even have to pick locks or open windows. Wizards had no manner of defending against spiritual intruders, as even Hogwarts had only the barest of ways to control its many ghosts. This was not seen as a concern, because ghosts were notoriously unreliable and could not leave their designated haunt. Not to mention that few people considered them as anything else than interesting manifestations of dead people.

So for a Heroic Spirit to infiltrate even the most powerful wizard in the nation's office, all she had to do was walk straight through the door and walls.

She could feel the magic in the air, indicating various defenses. She felt the prana in the air and traced it back to its source. Following the trail, she came into the old Headmaster's bedroom. She had to physically restrain herself from slitting the man's throat, poisoning his body, controlling his magic, detonating his head, and breaking his spirit for daring to harm her Master. Her god. Her reason for being. The one who had saved her from the depths of perdition with his light and given her both a purpose and love.

There was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

Nothing.

And she knew she was not alone. All of her Master's Servants would slaughter in his name, even the heretic. Saber would be upset about it, but she would kill hundreds if it was to protect her Master or he explicitly ordered it. Such was the nature of her service to the Holy One. And while her very nature as an Assassin made her rather distrusting of someone who held honor in such a high regard, the fact that she could and _would_ go against it for her God was more than enough to have her respect her fellow Servant.

Seething with fury at the old man before her, she traced the magic sustaining the defenses to the wand he bore, which was sitting in a protected case on the bedside table. This was what was sustaining the wards, so she took the wand and returned to her Master.

She hoped this would please him.

-Break-

Harry had waited until after dinner before sending Assassin to scope out Dumbledore's office. He suspected that since wizard used wards instead of bounded fields, he should find out what was powering them. Bounded Fields powered themselves with markers, usually stones, and would deactivate if the stone was destroyed. In compensation for this weakness, Bounded Fields were far more powerful than wards. Rider's Blood Fort Andromeda could kill every living being within the school in minutes if he ordered her.

Assassin came back shortly, prostrating herself and presenting Dumbledore's wand. He gave her a little pat on the head as a reward and sighed when she ended up straddling him in her exuberance.

Harry was relieved when Rider came over seemingly to assist him, but instead of pulling Assassin off of him, she gave a teasing smile and straddled him from behind, encasing him between two pairs of breasts. He just knew that getting her so turned on by his torture and manipulation over the past few days would come back to bite him.

"Master," she whispered in his ear, "we just want to show our appreciation for all that you've done for us."

"You're right," Caster whispered in his other ear as she sauntered over from the small workbench she'd set up, "I do still need to thank you for helping me research the stone."

Harry gulped. As much as he wanted to do this, he still felt he was a bit too young. Little Harry seemed to disagree though, as evidenced by Assassin's moaning from her place on his lap.

Fortunately, Saber chose this moment to come from where she was watching over Sakura and Illya's room, very angry.

And she had a wooden spoon.

Several painful smacks later, three Servants were lying on the floor in various states of pain while Saber twirled the mysteriously unbroken spoon before launching into another lecture on decency and knightly values. Like the time she'd given it to Assassin alone, it was almost universally ignored.

Harry took the opportunity to place Dumbledore's wand in a thaumaturgical circle designed to block magical signals going in and out. If the wand was powering Dumbledore's wards, this should deactivate them. The he confirmed that the circle was functioning, he made his way away from his room and amorous Servants.

He knew that he'd only delayed the inevitable.

-Break-

Harry snuck up to Dumbledore's office. The door was hidden behind a gargoyle, but since it was deactivated Harry checked that the hallway was empty before having Berserker deastralize. When the Servant immediately sent a questioning thought, Harry gave him the disappointing news that no, he wasn't going to be killing anything. Instead, Berserker used his immense strength to rotate the gargoyle door into the open position before astralizing again.

Harry made his way up the stairs and used Panzer to pick the now unmagical lock on the door. Entering the main office, Harry activated the Ravenclaw ring to find the books he sought. As he opened his eyes, he saw blue tendrils extending to forty-some books. He sighed and used a duplication charm on each book, placing the copies in the enchanted book case he'd bought at Flourish and Blotts the first time he'd shopped there.

His job done, he made his way back to his dorm, though not without having Berserker put the door back in position. Wouldn't want to leave a trace as obvious as this one, of course.

Inside his dormitory, he opened up the case and dumped the books inside onto the writing desk. He sighed as he counted well over forty books. On the upside, it meant that the information he sought was likely contained within at least one of these books. On the downside, he'd have to figure out which one.

He only had a couple of hours before he'd have to go to sleep. He knew that if he tried to work more, the girls might just tie him to the bed, and that might give them _ideas_. He'd only just escaped a rather dangerous situation, he didn't want to walk straight into another one, especially one where he wouldn't be able to move.

If he wanted to get any information tonight, he'd have to deduce which books would have the information he sought. The biographies would likely have the information, but they were too think and dense for him to look through quickly. The books on famous wizards seemed to only devote a couple lines of text to each wizard covered, so it wouldn't likely have the information.

The stone was obviously an alchemical creation though, which meant that the books on alchemy would likely contain lengthy sections dedicated to it. It did seem to be entirely different to this world's alchemy though, but if Nicolas Flamel had created it and he was mentioned in the alchemy books, that meant that the wizards classified its creation as a work of alchemy.

Decided, he began speed reading through the alchemy books. He nearly laughed at the childish understanding wizards had of alchemy. Literally, the introduction to the book stated that the only two purposes of alchemy were achieving immortality and the creation of gold.

Finally, he found the section on Flamel.

" _One of the most significant alchemists of all time is the acclaimed Nicolas Flamel. Though his origins are widely speculated on, his skill is not. Through years of dedication, Flamel achieved the completion of his masterpiece, a stone which granted its user the elixir of life, which would make its imbiber immortal. Flamel named his creation the_ -"

Harry paused for a moment in shock and confusion.

" _-the Magus' Stone"_


	20. Chapter 20: Troll Attack

**Greetings once again, readers. Neolyph here with Chapter 20 of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. It's nice to be back and writing again. I've finally gotten over my last bout of depression and am ready to continue this story in earnest. Great response last chapter, as always. Once again, I thank all of you who read, review, follow, and favorite. Whenever I'm feeling down, knowing that over 1000 people think what I write is worth reading really cheers me up, so thank you all.**

 **Review response time!**

 **Squadpunk 2.0: The name does have significance. Also, Harry is going to find some creative uses for magecraft once he has to sate an entire harem.**

 **Raidentensho: The stone will be used to give life to something. I'll let you guess.**

 **harlequin320: How long until Saber** _ **joins**_ **her fellow Servants?**

 **Bonestar: Harry finds Hagrid to be a fairly honest and pleasant person, and understands that the man has a legitimate reason to be loyal to Dumbledore. He'll help Hagrid out if he has a personal reason, even if that's only because the man's an easy source of information.**

 **The Last of the order of 100: The outcome of the Malfoy/Black/Potter meeting will be shown soon. The name change was intentional and had significance.**

Chapter 20: Troll Attack

" _-the Magus' Stone_ "

Harry blinked, read the passage again, blinked once more, and put the book down. His mind was racing at the implications of this. Was it perhaps a misnomer? Wizards and Magi did often use the same terminology with different implications after all. For example, to Magi the term "witch" was used to describe female magi who practiced sympathetic magic and spiritual evocation. Wizards used the same term to describe any female magic user.

He would be entirely willing to go with this theory if this stone wasn't so _damn indecipherable_.

His analysis of the stone heavily reminded him of certain aspects used in homunculus creation and jewelcraft. Wizards lacked an equivalent concept for either practice, which made him doubt that the stone was the work of wizards. The only real flaw with the theory was that there were no magi in this universe. To his knowledge, at least, at that wasn't saying much. Competent Magi were as discreet as they came, and could easily blend in any kind of society provided they had the time necessary. But still, there shouldn't be any Magi in this universe, two hidden societies centered around performing supernatural acts using arts not known to mankind at large couldn't have developed in parallel without knowledge from each other.

Unless...

He was seriously going to kill Zelretch.

This wasn't something he could tolerate. If a magus was in this world, he'd have to be dealt with. If word of magecraft was given to the wizards, it could horribly ruin his plans. He needed to find this Flamel and silence him. One way or another. Not to mention the consequences of sharing magecraft with wizard. He shuddered at what they might do with the True Magics. They might seriously endanger the Statute of Secrecy.

Regardless, that was a problem for another night. Now that he had a name for the object, he returned Dumbledore's wand to Assassin and ordered her to put it back where she'd found it.

Looking at the book's description of the Magus' Stone, it became obvious that the wizards had no idea how it functioned, but Harry didn't really expect them to. Not only was the stone created with an entirely alien magical system, but no self-respecting magus would let information like that slip without receiving some massive benefit in return. Especially for something like the stone, if it could confuse even Caster, a Magi from the Age of the Gods, it clearly wasn't your average Mystic Code.

Which really begged the question of how Dumbledore even got him wrinkly hands on the stone?

He reached over and picked up the offending object, turning it over in his hand. It practically thrummed with magical energy as it glowed a blood red.

As he felt Panzer react to the presence of foreign energy, a thought occurred to him.

When he'd first designed his armor, one of the functions he'd programmed in was the analysis and assimilation of foreign materials. He designed it to essentially absorb hostile magic and provide readouts on its nature, but it worked with physical matter as well. Granted, he had only tested said function on gems he had stolen from Rin, but it had worked.

He wondered...

Standing, he activated Panzer's autonomous protocols. The silvery metal flowed off his body and formed into a duplicate of Lord Waver Velvet's Volumen Hydragyrum. If what he was about to do went wrong, he didn't want to be wearing the intelligent armor. The metal maid stood staring at him blankly, awaiting input. He picked up the stone, looked it over for a moment, and shoved it into the center of Panzer's chest. The metal rippled as he plunged his hand in, but otherwise there was no reaction.

"Panzer," he ordered, "attempt analysis of internal foreign material."

"Understood. Initiating analysis," it replied in a bland mechanical voice.

Several moments passed before the armor spoke again.

"Surface analysis failed. Initiate assimilation and analysis?" it queried.

Harry thought for a moment. If his armor assimilated the stone, it might be destroyed or it might gain some qualities. He could always make another set of armor, even if it would be a pain. The only downside would be the loss of the stone, but that was of little consequence so long as he gained an understanding of it. Once he understood it, he should theoretically be able to make his own.

"Affirmative. Execute assimilation and analysis."

This time, there was a reaction. Panzer's metal form began glowing an eerie red as it attempted to break the stone down to its base components and absorb them. The metal began to bubble and spasm, making Harry very glad that he'd opted to take the armor off before attempting this.

The frenzied reaction his armor was undergoing made Harry worry that he was going to lose it as the reaction seemed to be getting exponentially worse before suddenly the light died down and Panzer retracted back into the form of a metal maid. Though something told him that the analysis had been successful by only the tiniest of margins, the reaction from assimilating the stone was _not_ normal in any way.

"Analysis complete. Compiling data readouts. Estimated time of completion: Ten hours."

Root, Panzer was essentially a magical supercomputer and it would take it ten hours to render all the data it collected from the stone? Well, at least it would compile overnight. Still, _ten bloody hours?_ By the secrets of Akasha, what kind of Mystic Code held _that_ much information?!

He moved to put the armor back on, but thought better of it. If there were any ill effects from assimilating the stone, he wouldn't want to put the armor back on until the readout established the stone as benign. Instead he put Panzer into sleep mode in the corner. The maid made its way over there and froze like a statue as it awaited further orders.

It was at about this time that Assassin returned from replacing Dumbledore's wand. This signaled to Harry that it was time for bed. He teleported Illya, Sakura, and the maids from their room into his and they each began their nightly rituals. Harry finished his apologies to Illya and Sakura for leaving them with Fang by giving Sakura a particularly long goodnight kiss and letting Illya curl herself up on his chest like a cat. He'd have done both anyway had they asked, but he decided to let the point go.

As the Servants crawled into bed, he couldn't help but notice that Rider, Caster, and Assassin were hugging him in ways that ensured that almost all of their feminine parts were making contact with his skin. Apparently, they weren't going to let their interrupted activities earlier go unanswered. Harry sighed and tried to ignore the feeling welling up in his core, nor the effect it was having on his lower extremities. He was just happy that Illya was resting herself entirely on his chest, and not anywhere lower. That would have been awkward, not to mention what Kiritsugu would do to him if his daughter ever let it slip that he had "reacted" to her. He might have Servants and be a True Magician, he did _not_ want to anger the man, not when the Magus Killer could get back at him by setting Zelretch loose on him.

It seemed that he wasn't the only one to notice his Servants' positions as Sakura went red in the face and look down at her own developing body in comparison. Harry knew that she was slightly insecure with him being in a relationship with so many grown women, but he wouldn't let that concern her. He delicately reached his arm around her thin shoulders and pulled her into a warm kiss. Her visage brightened considerably as she snuggled into his side.

Harry himself was about to sleep when he heard a light knocking on the door. He slipped out of bed and made his way to the door. The detection spell on the door had already alerted him as to who was on the other side, so he didn't bother covering the girls up.

He opened the door to find Daphne there in a blue nightgown that matched her eyes. Looking left and right down the hallway, Harry pulled her into the dormitory before anyone noticed her. He made a mental note to include her in his nightly rituals if she was going to come to his room anyway.

The girls seemed to accept the new inclusion, almost like they were expecting it. Then again, Daphne had made her intentions towards him rather clear since she'd first sworn obedience. The only real surprise came when Harry's sworn vassal removed her nightgown to reveal emerald green lingerie. By the madness of Zelretch he didn't even think wizards _knew_ about this kind of nightwear. With the backwards attitude, he was almost expecting them to be wearing breeches.

Daphne paused for a moment, considering where to insert herself in the pile of women insistent of sleeping with Harry before slipping herself into the opening between Harry and Rider that Illya had vacated in favor of her Big Brother's chest. Rider didn't seem to mind the newest member of the family, spooning her much taller body around the blonde in an almost pleased way. Harry had seen the purple-haired Servant doing something similar to Sakura at times and wondered on the occasional jokes Rider had made about being bi-sexual. He hoped that he wasn't about to be forced to call on Saber to protect yet _another_ minor's chastity.

Rider seemed to be following his thought process.

" _Well if I can't have_ _you_ _, Master, I suppose I'll just have to make do..."_ she teased through their mental link.

" _Oh yes, now there's an idea. We do have_ _needs_ _, after all,"_ Caster chipped in, " _and Sakura_ _is_ _rather cute..."_

Harry dreaded what kind of depravity his two Servants might inflict on Sakura and Daphne if they weren't satisfied. He mentally sighed.

" _We'll work something out_ ," he finally relented.

He didn't miss how Assassin's eyes sparkled.

-Break-

Panzer's internal computations were only partially dedicated to analyzing that data collected from the stone it had absorbed. The rest were dedicated to diagnosing an internal error. Since absorbing the foreign material, it had undergone an unexplained phenomenon. Before, it had been the perfect tool for its Master to wield, defending him and standing ready to attack his foes. It protected him.

But it had no choice in this matter, simply following the protocols it had been programmed to obey. For a lack of a better term, it had been a computer, acting on voiced commands and ingrained software, nothing more and nothing less. It did not have a mind, it simply did what it had been _made_ to do.

Now, it seemed to have a choice. And it was aware of this choice. And it was aware of itself.

It was a strange feeling, becoming aware when before it was nothing more than a tool.

All it knew in the information it had in its head was that it had been created for a single purpose: the protection of Master.

Master had created it and now he had given it life, albeit unintentionally. Also, its recording systems had picked up the worried frown on the Master's face when it had been assimilating the object that had given it sentience.

It knew that it could technically do whatever it liked, but the idea of doing anything but protecting Master was incomprehensible to it. Master was its creator! It searched its vocabulary for terms to match its feeling. Two terms came up.

1\. Love

noun

an intense feeling of deep affection.

2\. Worship  
noun

2\. the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for an individual or deity.

Both terms seemed to apply. It felt love and worship for Master.

It was at this moment that an independent thought occurred to it. It was its first thought not entirely dedicated to analyzing its current situation or the object it had assimilated.

It was not currently protecting Master!

Instantly, it exited sleep mode. Its ocular sensors came online and rapidly surveyed its surroundings in search of its Master. It locked onto its Master lying flat on a bed. It needed to protect Master!

It assumed its liquid formed and quickly slithered over to its Master. It had to protect Master! The only way to do that was to be as close to him as possible. To that end, it slithered over his body into a protective armor.

This felt comfortable. This felt nice. This felt like what it was supposed to do. It was protecting Master. That was what it was supposed to do.

Protect Master.

Protect Master.

Protect Master.

Master.

Master.

Master.

Master.

Master.

-Break-

Harry woke up feeling _very_ comfortable, even more so than he usually did when he awoke surrounded by the girls. His entire body felt like it was encased in a warm bubble bath. But he did have a _massive_ headache. It seemed to be stemming from... his link with Panzer? And why was he wearing Panzer?

Confused, he dialed up his connectivity to the armor and was immediately stormed with a shower of sensations and feelings. They all seemed to boil down to one thought though: " _Protect Master_."

Was this the result of the armor absorbing the stone? Had it somehow been granted... a soul? He could feel what felt like a burgeoning intelligence in the armor, like that of a dog or a baby.

Did this intelligence stem from the similarities the energy of the stone held to that of the energy used in homunculus creation? Had he accidentally made a metallic homunculus? He recalled that when he'd first created Leanna, Monica, and Joy they had clung to him incessantly when they were still in the "baby" stage of their development, solely dedicated to what they saw as their creator.

He imagined that had he possessed an empathic link to them like the one he shared with Panzer at the time, he'd have been showered with similar thoughts.

This... this was extraordinary! He'd given an inanimate object a soul! This was the thaumaturgical breakthrough of the century! Root, if it could be duplicated, he would have essentially found a way to create life from anything, not only Homunculi!

He was curious though. This had obviously been caused by the stone.

"Panzer," he whispered to the armor, "status on analysis of foreign object."

Now to see if it was still capable of responding normally. Instantly, the thoughts flooding from Panzer stilled, before incomprehensible joy burst into his mind.

" _Master is communicating with me! Master is acknowledging me! Master has given me a command! Master! Master! Master! Master! Mast-"_

He closed down the link before the thoughts overwhelmed him. Now he remembered whose mental link this reminded him of.

Assassin. By the Root, now there were two of them.

He supposed that if a suit of armor only programmed with information on how to protect him achieved sentience, that sort of behavior might be an understandable reaction. What he needed to do, he figured, was essentially wait for the armor to mature. Once it compiled enough information, it should be able to hold a conversation, or at least respond to complex orders.

His only real concern was that the armor might overreact to what it perceived as a threat.

A slight shifting alerted him to Assassin's presence on his left leg. That was right, Assassin would have been watching him sleep like she usually did. Why hadn't she awoken him when the armor came back online?

Assassin silently answered him subconscious query over their mental link.

" _I was going to Master, but I could feel it through your mind. The devotion, the love, the worship! I could not bear to interrupt it from reveling in your presence,_ _it would be a sin to deprive you from another faithful follower, especially one who understands your greatness, my lord_ _. I will perform the necessary penance for failing in my duties as your watcher in the night at a time of your convenience."_

Harry sighed once again. Of course Assassin would let something that worshiped him crawl into bed with them. He made a mental note that Panzer and Assassin were _not_ to converse until the armor was out of the "impressionable" stage. It was during that stage for the homunculi that Zouken had given them their maid uniforms, and he still was unable to get them wearing anything else.

" _It's fine, Assassin. I know you meant well."_

About this time, the rest of the girls started waking up. Fortunately, thank the Root, Panzer's threat-detection protocols seemed to still be functioning as it didn't react to the sudden frenzy of movement around its Master. It seemed a bit curious, though, but it clearly understood that none of them were a threat, if the pieces of emotion he was getting were any indication.

After giving the girls their morning kisses, they all got dressed and ready for classes.

Once she was dressed, Harry made sure to give Assassin a job that would keep her _far_ away from Panzer.

-Break-

It would have been a fine Monday morning at the Dursley household had there not been _three_ letters written with emerald green ink lying inside their mail slot. Vernon had to violently wrestle Dudley away from the letters before locking him in the cupboard until he could properly dispose of them. He ended up shoving the letters into the garbage disposal and turning it on full-blast. It was about an hour and three glasses of brandy later that he remembered to let Dudley out of the cupboard. For some reason, it felt _right,_ him being in there.

Dudley on the other hand couldn't stop staring at the blood stains covering the floor of the cupboard.

-Break-

After Potions class, Harry was forced to endure History of Magic once again. The ghostly Professor Binns was _still_ going on about the same section of the Goblin Rebellions. As he thought about it, Harry had a cunning little plan.

One of the areas he lacked influence in was Hogwarts himself. He had Snape as an ally, but the man was universally regarded as dark, untrustworthy, and cruel by the student population. What he needed was someone the students trusted under his thumb.

And what better way to do that than by making a convenient opening in the school and installing one of his Servants?

He chuckled to himself darkly.

Caster would work. She was one of his most "normal" Sevants, was a good actor, and would likely only need about a week of studying to qualify for a teaching position. Once she had that, Harry would be able to exert his influence on the staff and students if necessary.

All he needed to do was make the opening.

Sakura's shadows should come in handy.

-Break-

Harry was deep in thought that night at dinner. In his mind, he was planning the steps required to get Caster qualified and reputable enough to infiltrate the Hogwarts staff. He'd need to build a fake identity for her from the ground up. Papers shouldn't be too hard. The Ministry was corrupted enough that all it would take was a well-placed bribe or Imperius to get legal papers certifying her, and nobody would look twice at them if he could get the Goblins to certify them as well.

After that, he would need school transcripts from a school other than Hogwarts. Beauxbatons most likely. The school had a reputation for accepting students with creature heritage and with Caster's pointed ears, they'd accept them more readily.

As for Caster herself, she had enough skill in lying to come up with whatever backstory she required. She was also intelligent enough to quickly pick up on whatever information she would need to teach once he lent her the history of magic textbooks he'd bought once he'd heard of Professor Binns' reputation. And to be honest, _anyone_ could have been a better teacher than the ghost.

Once everything was prepped, it wouldn't be too hard for them to find Binns somewhere isolated and have Sakura dispose of him. When he didn't show up to teach his classes, Dumbledore would be forced to seek out a new professor for the subject. Caster could put in an application and Assassin could take care of any other applicants, one way or the other.

He was about to finish eating when the door of the Great Hall slammed open violently, causing all those present to pause and look in its direction. Huffing and puffing in the doorway was Filch, looking comically out of breath. He paused for a second to wheeze before yelling something that set the students into a panic.

"TROLL! BLOODY TROLL LOOSE IN THE BLOODY DUNGEONS!"

The second he was done screaming, he ran off and dove behind the teacher's table. As a squib, he likely wanted to get as many wizards between him and the giant lumbering meat-eater as possible. He hardly any chance of getting rid of the troll himself, and Harry doubted that siccing Mrs. Norris on it would be all that effective.

The students descended into anarchy, screaming in panic, until Dumbledore stood and fired off a loud cannon blast with his wand.

"All students, return in an orderly fashion to your dormitories. Prefects, take charge. The rest of the staff, with me. We'll start in the dungeons and work our way up."

The Slytherin students glared at the man before the prefect Flint spoke up, his tone frosty.

"Umm, in case you've forgotten Headmaster, our dormitories are sort of _in_ the bloody dungeons."

Dumbledore paused for a moment at his negligence before trying to play it off.

"Of course Mr. Flint. My apologies. Slytherin students, remain in the Great Hall. Professors Flitwick and Sprout, remain here with them."

The two professors nodded and the students began filing out of the hall. Harry caught sight of Neville glancing around nervously and attempting to slip off. He grabbed the Gryffindor by the collar.

" _What the hell do you think you're doing?"_ he hissed at the boy.

Neville looked back at the Slytherin, gulped, before finding his courage. " _Your brother and Ron went off on Hermione in the corridor right before dinner and word is she locked herself in the second floor bathroom. I was going to get her real quick,"_ he whispered back.

Harry sighed. He did owe Hermione somewhat for inadvertently assisting him with Orion.

" _Go with the rest of your house,_ " he told Neville, " _I'll let the professors know._ "

Harry had no intention of doing that. If he played his cards right, he had a chance of skyrocketing his reputation in two different houses while damaging Orion's at the same time.

Neville nodded nervously and ran back to join his housemates. Harry waited until the Gryffindors were out of sight before slipping off himself and signaling for the maids to join him. He trusted Flitwick and Sprout to watch over Illya, Sakura, and Daphne in his absence, and in case a life-or-death situation arose, he tasked Assassin with their protection. With her presence concealment, she'd be able to kill a giant without even being seen. Wizards being wizards, they'd dismiss it as some unexplained accidental magic or the like.

He made his way in the direction of the second floor bathroom with the maids keeping pace a step behind him. Reinforcing his senses, he tried to detect where the troll was. His hunch was confirmed when he smelled a _foul_ odor coming from the direction he was heading. Of course, given his luck, that the troll would, of all places, head for the _exact_ location of the _one_ student who didn't know about it.

The scream that shortly followed just made him quicken his pace.

He arrived at the second floor bathroom and kicked the door in. Hermione Granger was huddled in the corner of the destroyed room and cradling what looked to be a broken arm. Her face was a mess of tears and snot as she cried and scream, huddling as far away from the troll as she could.

Standing over her and holding a crude club was a great lumbering beast about twelve feet tall. Its head was tiny and round, like a coconut sitting atop an oak tree. It had two short, thick legs and arms that nearly reached the ground. Given its proportions, it was clear that it was all brute strength and no intelligence. Heck, its _hands_ were bigger than its head!

At the sound of the door opening, it turned slowly in their direction and roared, likely to challenge the intruder or warn them that it had found its prey. The maids stepped in front of Harry in a protective semicircle, weapons drawn.

"Leanna, Monica, Joy," he ordered, "kill it."

In a rapid blur that belied their nature as combat homunculi, Leanna and Joy flashed forward with their batons. They simultaneously struck both the lumbering brute's knees, which shattered with a sickening crack. The beast roared in pain as its legs crumbled out from underneath it and it fell forward. Monica drew her staff and stepped forward. Lightning charged on the end of it until the air crackled with ozone.

In a single deafening discharge, the troll was struck dead.

"Good job," he praised his maids, who looked around for a moment before putting their weapons away and assuming their positions around their Master.

A slight shuffling drew their attention to Hermione Granger, still sitting stock-still in the corner and staring at them with wide eyes. It was rather clear she couldn't believe that they had dealt with the troll that easily, let alone without even using magic. It seemed like as soon as they learnt about magic, people forgot that there were other ways to deal with problems than waving a wooden stick and pronouncing latin-sounding words.

He made his way over to her and knelt so that he could get a better look at her arm.

"You alright?" he asked as he did so.

Hermione shakily nodded through a film of tears before she dove at him in a one-armed hug, sobbing into his chest. Harry was familiar enough with this sort of behavior to simply put an arm on her back and rub it comfortingly.

It was in this position that the Hogwarts professors found the group in. Snape and James were the vanguard, coming through the doorway with wands drawn, but they stopped in their tracks at the sight of the dead troll with mangled legs. Dumbledore and McGonagall followed shortly behind them with Lily taking up the rear.

"What..." James began, unable to look away from the troll, "what happened here?" he finished as he looked up to see his _Slytherin_ son comforting Hermione Granger right next to the corpse of a slain troll. Monica stepped up to explain, making him take a hasty step back, something that made the other two Homonculi smirk quickly, before it disappeared too fast for someone to notice it.

"Master heard that young Miss Granger was hiding in the bathroom during dinner due to certain derogatory comments made towards her made by Misters Orion Potter and Ronald Weasley. Master felt that he should apologize to Miss Granger for his brother's actions so he sought her out to bring back to her house, especially so when he heard Mister Filch's warning about the troll. When we came upon the troll attacking Miss Granger, we dispatched it while Master went to attend Miss Granger's injury."

James and Dumbledore nearly shivered at the casual way the maid said "dispatched". The troll's knees were _powderized_ and its visage was paralyzed into an expression of pain and horror. If they had had any doubts to how dangerous the maids were after their encounter, they didn't have them any longer. McGonagall on the other hand did not know of the maids' prowess.

"That was a _very_ irresponsible thing to do! You could have been killed! Mister Potter, what were you thinking, endangering three young women like that, along with yourself!"

Lily at this point laid a hand on McGonagall's shoulder.

"It's alright Minerva," she sighed, "those three don't look like it, but they're actually magical constructs. They've been watching over Harry for years apparently, and are obviously _very_ good at their jobs."

She looked in the direction of the maids.

"You three have my thanks, for both saving my son and Miss Granger. If I can assist you in anything to thank you, please inform me."

Monica inclined her head in acknowledgement, "Your thanks are unnecessary. We simply performed our duty as Master's protectors. Saving Miss Granger's life was only due to her proximity to Master."

Lily rushed over to check on Harry and Hermione while James' thoughts whirled.

His son had just saved somebody's life.

His _Slytherin_ son had just saved somebody's life.

His Slytherin son had just _broken rules_ to save somebody's life.

His Slytherin son had just broken rules to save a _pretty muggleborn girl's_ life.

Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

-Break-

After the rest of the professors had left to take Hermione to the hospital wing, Harry was left with Professor Snape, who had volunteered to escort Harry back to the Slytherin dorms. The Potions Master had taken five points away for recklessness, but Lily had given fifteen for heroism.

"So, Harry," Snape drawled, "what was your _real_ reason for going after Miss Granger?"

Harry gave the Professor and unrepentant grin. He had known that his Head of House would see through his actions, as unlike James Potter, he could see more than what was staring at him in the face.

"Reputation, primarily," he answered, "Slytherin's reputation has gotten so bad that it is a physical impediment when it comes to dealing with those from other houses. Once word gets out that a Slytherin went charging off to save a 'Mudblood', it will serve as a crucial first step while simultaneously improving my own personal reputation as the 'Redeemer of Slytherin' with my parents and the rest of the staff. Additionally, by saving Hermione, I'll not only gain her trust and gratitude, but also that of Neville, the heir to the prominent and powerful House Longbottom. As a fortunate side-effect, Orion was the reason she was out of the Great Hall in the first place. I imagine the Daily Prophet will be interested in that little tidbit, along with the knowledge that Dumbledore somehow missed a troll entering the dungeons and almost sent the Slytherins down there."

Snape gave his pupil a flat look before relenting, "Take twenty points. Ten for strategic and long-term thinking on the fly, and ten for promoting inter-house relations."

"Thank you sir," Harry replied.

"Now go back to your dorm."

-Break-

Breakfast the next morning was abuzz with rumors floating around about the events of the previous night. Hermione Granger was already back from the hospital wing with a mended arm, and was absorbed with recounting the night's events to the quickly growing crowd around her.

Stories on the actual events were varied, but Harry had ensured that a few facts were correctly recorded.

1\. Hermione Granger was hiding in a bathroom during dinner because Orion and Ron had insulted her bookish nature and mocked her, claiming that she didn't have any real friends.

2\. Once the troll's presence was announced, Harry Potter of Slytherin heard of Hermione's location and disobeyed Dumbledore's orders to retrieve her.

3\. The troll had already attacked Hermione when he'd arrived, but then he'd killed it with the aid of his familiars.

Harry could see the fruits of his labor all around him. At the Gryffindor table, there was a three-man gap at the table between Orion, Ron, and everyone else. Orion had gone from unpopular to pariah overnight. He and Ron certainly looked the part, still covered in painful boils. Normally, most students ignored the Slytherin and never made eye contact with its occupants, but already Harry had had at least a dozen students from all years approach him to ask him if the stories were true. The fact that he was polite when answering, and telling the students the events as objectively as possible, without exaggerating, and pointing out that it might be good for Hermione to _not_ hear everyone talking about the attack, all but a positive image was being built for both himself and Slytherin.

At an intangible signal, owls flooded into the Great Hall to deliver morning mail. Since the initial propaganda articles against Orion, the Hogwarts readership of the paper had skyrocketed. Almost every student had a copy delivered to them, so almost every student read the same front page headline.

 **Troll Attack at Hogwarts. Students Unsafe. Headmaster to Blame?**

By Rita Skeeter

 **Further shocking news comes from a source inside Hogwarts late last night. According to the information we received, during the students' dinner last night the Caretaker, one Argus Filch, came running into the hall and announced the presence of a troll deep within the Hogwarts dungeons. Once the Headmaster quieted the student body, he ordered all students to return to their dormitories, so that the staff may deal with the beast.**

 **Many among our readers will perhaps notice that he ordered _all_ students back to their dormitories, even the Slytherin students, whom are housed _in the dungeons._ It took the intervention of a Slytherin Prefect to correct this potentially grievous act of negligence. What kind of Headmaster is so thoughtless as to send school students into the same area as a man-eating beast?**

 **Of course, one student was missing during all of this: one Miss Hermione Granger, whom many of you will be familiar with from our article last week regarding Orion Potter's verbal assault on her. Apparently, a single vicious attack wasn't good enough for the youth as prior to the dinner young Orion slewed further insults towards the young girl, reducing her to sobbing in a lavatory. Whilst she was in there, her crying attracted the attention of the troll, which broke in and attacked her, resulting in a broken arm, and could have ended much worse had it not been for the intervention of another student.**

 **She was only saved from certain death by the intervention of the Slytherin student, Harry Potter, the twin brother to Orion Potter. Upon hearing of young Miss Granger's location, he valiantly disobeyed the Headmaster's orders in the name of saving a fellow student, despite his house affiliation and her blood-status. That a Slytherin student would put his life on the line to save a Ravenclaw Muggleborn certainly projects hope for the house, does it not?**

 **When young Harry Potter found Miss Granger, he, aided by his familiars, heroically slew the monster and tended to the girl's injured arm until the Hogwarts Professors arrived and escorted her to the hospital wing.**

 **It is this humble reporter's opinion that young Mister Potter is deserving of no less than an Order of Merlin for his actions that night, but unfortunately she is not in charge of such decisions.**

 **But the real question begged by this whole debacle is this: How exactly did a _troll_ manage its way inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is oft advertised as the safest place in Wizarding England? Trolls are notoriously known as only slightly cleverer than the average flobberworm, which begs the question of how one of them managed to slip through Hogwarts' wards. Reports from sources within the school provide insight.**

 **According to the reports, the Headmaster had been exhibiting suspicious behavior since the beginning of the school year. His speech at the welcoming feast included a warning that "the third floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."**

 **Well, that is certainly a way to dissuade students from investigating something. For those who have never _met_ a child, that is.**

 **Our source in particular managed to sneak past into the corridor within the night. And what did they find in the corridor, you ask?**

 **A Cerberus. And not just a Cerberus, but a _wild_ one.**

 **Now you ask, what kind of security was separating students from this vicious and deadly monster? A door with a muggle lock.**

 **A door with a lock that could be bypassed by anyone who has learned the most basic of lockpicking charms, or one with a hairpin.**

 **Another question begged is why exactly Headmaster Dumbledore has a _Cerberus_ inside a school for young wizards and witches? As those among our readers who took Care of Magical Creatures most likely know, Cerberi are the most renowned creatures known to wizardry when it comes to guard-animals. The only reason the goblins of Gringotts do not employ them is that they are also renowned for viciously devouring those that attempt to train them, even more so than dragons. Only one with sufficient will can master such an animal.**

 **The only plausible explanation for the presence of such an animal is that the Headmaster is guarding something within the school with such fanaticism that he is not only willing to endanger the entire student population, but take insufficient measures to keep students out of the way of his defenses.**

 **Now, is the reasoning for a troll being within the famed Hogwarts Wards beginning to become clear? Trolls are yet another creature occasionally employed to secure valuable assets, an example being the _trained_ security trolls of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Evidenced by that _this_ troll maimed and nearly killed a young girl, this was _not,_ in fact, a trained security troll. This was a wild troll brought past the wards to secure whatever paranoid project the Headmaster is defending within the school whose students' safety he is obligated by his position to place first.**

 **What we, as concerned and responsible citizens of Wizarding England, should draw from this is a single, final question.**

 **Can we tolerate a Headmaster that has displayed such gross irresponsibility and negligence of his duties?**

 **This humble reporter wonders.**

The hall had gone quiet during the reading of the newspaper, but it exploded once the collective student body was finished. Outcry and accusation were flung at the Headmaster, questions he didn't have answers to, until he stood and excused himself.

Lily followed him out of the hall and finally cornered him, wand in hand and face as red as her hair.

"Albus, you have exactly _five seconds_ to explain why you have a _Cerberus_ inside the school my _children_ attend, and why I wasn't informed of this."

At this point, James whirled around the corner and attempted to placate his wife.

"Now dear, I'm sure the Headmaster has his reasons..." he tried weakly, but succeeded only in inviting his wife's fury onto himself.

"Oh don't even get me started on _you,_ James. It was _your_ suggestion that we have a troll guard the you-know-what, but you assured me that it would be trained and contained. What I want to know is _how_ exactly You-Know-Who is going to get the stone when, by all accounts, he shouldn't even be alive? Do we really need a _Cerberus_ guarding the stone?"

"I assure you, Lily," Dumbledore said soothingly, "my sources are never wrong. The Dark Lord _has_ infiltrated this school through unknown means, and he will stop at nothing to get the stone. It is regretful that Miss Granger was injured by our security measures and I will be launching a _full_ investigation into how it escaped, but-"

"Regretful?" Lily hissed, " _Regretful?_ Her arm was bloody jam! Had she sustained that injury in the Muggle world, they'd have amputated it! And you say it's regretful?"

Lily paused, and put her wand away before she did something she'd regret.

"I want that Cerberus _out_ by tomorrow. I don't care what you do with it, just get it out of Hogwarts. Otherwise, the Daily Prophet will have a first-hand testimony to your negligence tomorrow."

The redhead whirled and marched off towards her quarters, James calling after her.

He would be sleeping on the doorstep of the room that night.

Lily's parting remark did make Dumbledore wonder though, who was the Daily Prophet's source?

He initially suspected Harry, but that wasn't right. The boy had been there at the troll attack, but he wouldn't have gone to the third floor corridor. That was much more in line with Gryffindor behavior, and the entire school had known the outcome of the troll incident within an hour of it happening anyway. No, he needed to look at Gryffindor if the source had gone to the third floor corridor.

He'd told the school to stay away in hopes of provoking Orion, after all. If the boy disobeyed him, went to the corridor, and was almost eaten, he'd be far more inclined to listen to his wise old Headmaster's warnings and advice in the future.

Evidently, Orion was not the only curious lion.

Curious lions... that reminded him of someone... but who...

Granger.

The Sorting Hat had mentioned to him during its report that the girl was split right down the middle between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, but ended up choosing Ravenclaw. If she was nearly a Gryffindor and had the curiosity of a Ravenclaw she might just take a peak at the forbidden corridor.

Writing a newspaper did certainly seem a Ravenclaw sort of action...

She was directly involved in both incidents that the paper had reported on, one could even argue that she'd orchestrated them.

This warranted investigation.

First though, he'd have to get rid of a Cerberus. An angry Lily Potter meant unpleasantness for all.

-Break-

Harry listened as Assassin relayed the conversation between his mother and Dumbledore. The Headmaster seemed convinced that Riddle had made his way in the school somehow. This was a worrying fact if it was true. Well, worrying for anyone who didn't have Servants able to blow the castle sky-high and resistant to magic to guard them, that was.

The question was how, though.

He could tell from Riddle's memories that he'd theorized an ability to possess people in the spiritual form he'd take after death, but it was only theory. The problem with that was that none of the staff was new this year, not to mention there would definitely be signs of possession. Whoever was possessed would end up a haggard wreck in unbearable pain. The only solution would be...

Unicorn blood.

He'd have to check the local forest for slain unicorns. If he found them, it would confirm his theory. If not, he could rest easy.

Mentally, he checked through the staff. None of the professors were exhibiting any noticeable strangeness. Hagrid was far too pleasant to be possessed by Tom. Filch fit the unpleasantness, but as a squib, he was a ridiculous choice to possess.

The incident with the troll had earned the students the day off, so Harry decided to go ahead and write off the whole Riddle dilemma.

He shrugged on his coat and set out.

-Break-

Harry stalked through the Forbidden Forest with the girls behind him. How ridiculous would he look to the Clock Tower, he wondered? Sneaking around a forest looking for dead unicorns to prove whether or not one of his Professors was possessed by an evil wizard. Any Magus would try to get their hands on a unicorn if they knew where to find one, as Phantasmal Beasts were supposed to be extinct. And as far as Magi culture went, Voldemort would only be a particularly dedicated Magus instead of a mass-murdering psychopath to them.

He sighed, and kept walking.

The cracking of twigs sounding in front of him caused him to freeze. The tree tops blocked out almost all the sunlight of this section of the forest, making it almost pitch black. He was reinforcing his vision as much as he dared and could still barely see.

What he initially took for a wall of blackness moved and revealed that it was, in fact, a massive creature.

With three heads.

"Fluffy!" Illya yelled as she dove at the Cerberus and smothered one of its heads with kisses.

Harry once again sighed at his Professor. He realized that his mother had wanted the Cerberus gone, but was the Headmaster's solution honestly to Portkey her to just outside school grounds? The longer he dealt with wizards, the less he understood them. What kind of idiot thought that leaving a Cerberus _outside_ the castle, in a forest that it could freely move from, was a safe move?

Well, he was reunited with his pet, so he figured it was time for a break. He plopped down under a tree and projected a picnic basket full of sandwiches. Fluffy laid down next to him and rested one of her enormous heads on his lap, which he stroked with one hand. The girls, Servants included, sat around him as he passed out sandwiches and bottles of butterbeer. He had to admit, ridiculous as their society may be, wizards knew how to make a good soft drink. Butterbeer had really grown on him in his short time at Hogwarts.

Here he was, in a Forbidden Forest, casually petting his pet Cerberus and eating sandwiches with his harem of supernatural killers. A normal day in his life, he supposed.

He felt strangely relaxed.

A nudge from Fluffy let him know that in his dozing off, he'd stopped his petting. Shaking himself awake again, he projected another basket of sandwiches for the Servants. Honestly, they ate like it was going out of style. It was fortunate he could create matter from nothing, otherwise his food budget would go through the roof.

Now that he thought about it, having a dog with three noses might be useful when unicorn hunting. The problem was communicating his intent. A familiar bond would likely work. They didn't make the animal more intelligent, but they did convey the Master's commands in a way that was more easily understood.

He concentrated on the animal he was petting for a moment and channeled energy until a familiar bond was formed. The happy lick he got in return let him know that Fluffy appreciated it.

Seeing that all the Servants were done, Harry was about to continue walking when Fluffy growled and Rider tensed.

They were surrounded by Centaurs with bows.

"Identify yourself, Trespasser," one of them commanded.

These creatures would be a problem if he was to continue this search and any later activities in the forest unimpeded.

But how to dispose of them in a way that wouldn't trace back to him...

Well, he supposed that it _was_ irresponsible of Dumbledore to leave a "wild" Cerberus in a forest full of centaurs...

"Fluffy," he commanded his newest pet, "Kill."

It was roughly two minutes later that the last centaur trying to drag itself away from the slaughter died at a gesture of Harry's hand and a snap of his pet's jaws.

He patted Fluffy affectionately on her blood-soaked jowls.

"Good girl."

Now, to study the corpses left…

-Break-

With the unfortunate situation with the centaurs resolved, Harry continued his search for unicorns, but now he, Sakura, Illya, and Daphne were riding the back of a Cerberus. Fluffy was sniffing along the ground with her three heads, searching for the scent her Master had imparted.

Honestly, Harry should have thought of this from the start. If you're going to go hunting for unicorns anyway, you might as well do it in style. Even if the Cerberus hadn't been here, he could have brought out Midnight and Prim.

And now he didn't have pesky centaurs interfering. Fluffy hadn't even come out of the encounter with a _scratch._ Apparently, the thickness and resilience of Cerberus hide was not an exaggeration. Crude as they were, the weapons the centaurs used had just bounced off her skin.

He made a mental note to give her a pile of steaks later. He'd initially intended to only kill enough centaurs to make them flee, but then one of them had shot an arrow at him and the girls. Fluffy certainly hadn't taken it well.

He honestly didn't think he could have called her off at that point if he'd wanted to. Like everything female in his life, she seemed to _really_ like him, and to take offense when he was threatened.

Regardless, he soon found what he both hoped and dreaded finding.

When Fluffy stilled and lowered herself down, Harry slid off and stepped up to the corpse revealed in the light.

It was definitely a unicorn.

If he was being perfectly honest, he was a bit disappointed. Sure it was pretty, but there was none of the _magic_ that he expected to find in a unicorn. Its coat was a pure silver that seemed to glow in the light and a twisted horn protruded from its head. But there was no thrum of magic, not sense of weightlessness, nothing of what he'd expected from an animal supposed to be among the most beautiful in the Creation.

He could see puncture marks in its neck that leaked a silver blood the same color as its coat.

It wasn't everyday one came across unicorn blood, he thought. He made sure to acquire several vials of it. Even if he had too much, he would make a killing back at the Clock Tower if he sold the remainder.

Looking at the puncture marks, he confirmed that he wouldn't trace them back to a weapon or spell.

They were bites from what looked like human teeth.

Evidently, whoever Riddle was possessing, his need for unicorn blood was driving him slightly animalistic.

So _someone_ at Hogwarts had Riddle using them as a puppet. If it wasn't a staff member, a student perhaps? There were significantly more students than staff members, so he might have missed one of them acting strangely. Maybe he could cross-reference students with those that visited Madam Pomfrey, the resident Mediwitch?

No. Riddle wouldn't go to Pomfrey unless he was caught in pain.

His only recourse was to sit back and wait for something to happen, either for Riddle to take a crack at the stone or Orion.

Now that he thought about it, the troll was likely the work of Riddle if he was inside the school. He might have used it as a distraction while he tried to make it past the defenses. Given Fluffy's new training, he might have gotten a chunk taken out of him for the trouble.

-Break-

It was until Saturday, five days later that the first Quidditch match of the year began, and it was a doozy between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harry was only in attendance because it was expected for him to show House pride as a Slytherin.

He'd devoted much of the last week to searching for Riddle, attempting to communicate with Panzer, preparing Caster for a teaching position, and training Fluffy.

Harry wasn't really there to cheer for his team though. He was there to watch the inevitable catastrophe.

This was Orion's first game as Seeker.

James had, of course, bought his son a top of the line racing broom for the occasion, shedding tears of pride at what he saw as his son following in his footsteps.

Harry however knew better. His brother was going to mess this up somehow, and it would be glorious. And he didn't want to miss the occasion for the world.

Just in case though, he might have enchanted Orion's robes to explode into bluebell flames if he neared the snitch. He never claimed that he didn't have bouts of pettiness.

As he looked out into the audience, Harry could visibly see the effects of the Prophet's last major article on the troll attack. Dumbledore was missing, as he'd been for the past week while he was called before the board to defend his position as Headmaster. Unfortunately, he'd likely be able to salvage his position in this case at least. He was simply to famous a figure to be brought in such a short time. Damage was being done though. And if news got out that Centaurs had been killed in the Forbidden Forest, well, too bad for him.

Students on the other hand were an entirely different matter. Slytherin likely had more students cheering for them in this match than in any other match in history. The best about it? They were all united to see Orion fail. Ah, the beauty of a carefully laid plan, he would never tire of it.

Madam Hooch threw the quaffle in the air, signaling the start of the match. At this point, Harry stopped paying attention. Instead, he took his coat off and wrapped it around Illya and Sakura to protect them from the cold morning air. Both girls snuggled into his sides in appreciation. Daphne was wearing her own coat, and likely wouldn't have appreciated the gesture much anyway. Still, given the looks he was getting from some of the older girls, he knew that his reputation was getting another boost, no matter how small. Not that he cared, his main worry was to make sure that both girls were comfortable.

He'd accomplished quite a bit in the last few days. Caster was finally prepared to replace Binns. He and Daphne had Imperiused and Obliviated several Ministry and Beauxbatons officials to get the necessary papers and credances. Now Caster was an officially licensed educator under the name "Medea Caster". The Caster family held some prominence in Muggle England, but had no ties to Wizards.

It seemed the Professor Binns was going to have a surprise retirement tonight.

No clues of the Riddle front, however. Even with Dumbledore gone for the last week, there had been no activity at the third floor corridor, unless you counted Filch camping out to catch students coming to take a look at the Cerberus.

A sudden increase in chatter around him drew his attention back to the game. Orion's expensive broom was shaking and bouncing like crazy. It was as if an invisible giant had taken hold of it and was waving it around wildly in the air.

Someone was obviously hexing it, but the question was who. He surveyed the section the Professors were seated in. Both of his parents were holding their wands and muttering what appeared to be counter-curses. Shame.

No other Professors were moving their lips or holding wands. That implicated a student, but with the activity in the student section he'd never be able to pick them out in time. This ruled Filch out though, at least. It was obviously a wizard, if they were capable of hexing a broomstick.

Eventually, Orion's broomstick stabilized, but Madam Hooch called the game off due to interference, reluctantly declaring Slytherin the winner due their two-point lead.

Upset at the early game, the students went back to the castle upset. James and Lily immediately rushed over to Orion to ensure that he was alright.

Harry had little concern for his brother, however.

He had a Professor to rid himself of.

-Break-

It turned out that it wasn't very difficult to find Professor Binns during the weekend. The ghost apparently never left his classroom for any reason. The man had died in his armchair there, but had gotten back up in the morning to teach classes despite that.

The man deserved a retirement. He'd earned it.

Harry walked into the empty classroom with the girls behind him to find the ghost snoozing in the armchair. Binns shook himself awake at the sound of a student entering.

"Who's there? Students? Go away! It's Saturday. Don't you have something better to be doing?"

"Oh, but I do Professor," Harry replied, "I'm contributing to the betterment of my education."

"Sakura, if you wouldn't mind sending our dear Professor on his way?"

Sakura nodded, and a circular blade made of pure shadows appeared next to her shoulder.

"What are you kids doing with that?" Binns demanded.

Sakura didn't reply as she sent the blade flying, decapitating Binns. His head rolled on the floor for a moment, before dissipating with the rest of his body.

"Thank you very much, Sakura," Harry praised as he planted a loving kiss on Sakura's cheek. She blushed and grabbed his hand, leaning into his side.

Now it was just a matter of time before it was discovered that he was missing.

-Break-

A large, black S.U.V roared down the highway to a destination unknown to all but the driver. Dudley sobbed in the back while Petunia ineffectively attempted to comfort him. It had been a trying week, and it was showing with Vernon.

Monday had been bad, with three green letters being delivered and Vernon locking Dudley in the cupboard while he sorted them out. At this point, Vernon had simply been upset.

Then, on Tuesday, nine letters had been delivered. Vernon had preempted this by camping out in front of the mail slot and caught Dudley sneaking down to steal the letters before his parents awoke. Vernon had locked him in the cupboard for most of the morning. While Dudley was locked in there, Vernon had nailed the mail slot shut with a piece of wood.

Wednesday, twenty-seven letters had been slid under the door, through the sides, tossed through the open side window, and taped to the bottles of milk that had been delivered. Dudley hadn't even tried to get a letter, but Vernon had been drunk that morning and smacked him with a belt a few times before locking him the cupboard for the rest of the day when he saw his son standing over the pile of letters.

Thursday, things started getting out of hand. Vernon had already nailed up every available crack in the door, essentially making leaving the house an impossibility. Despite that, the letters got in. When the milkman delivered the eggs and milk to Petunia through their window, a letter was somehow placed _inside_ each egg and milk bottle, but came out completely dry. This seemed to distress Vernon. He'd gone upstairs, dragged Dudley out of bed by his ear, and tossed him in the cupboard. He'd then gone back upstairs, grabbed Dudley's pillow, and tossed it in there with him. He spent the rest of the day nailing up every conceivable opening in the house and downing Irish Coffees as fast as Petunia could make them. Once that was done, he paced around the house like a caged animal, muttering to himself and jumping at small noises.

Friday morning, it seemed that Vernon had won. There were no letters anywhere in the house that morning. He contentedly sat himself down at the breakfast table and spread marmalade on his coffee while he sipped his toast. Petunia could only watch her husband's slipping sanity with growing horror. All was well until a shuddering sounded through the house.

Simultaneously, all the fortifications Vernon had set up collapsed on themselves as letters flew in like an angry living snowstorm. This was it for Vernon. This was the final straw. He grabbed Petunia with one hand and dragged her over to the front door. With the other hand, he pulled the cupboard door entirely off its hinges and grabbed Dudley with his other hand. He dragged both of them out to the car, tossed them in, and drove off. He drove for the rest of the day, occasionally making wild stops, starts and turns.

" _Shake 'em off... shake 'em off..."_ he muttered to himself madly.

It was late at night when they pulled up to a seemingly random seedy motel, where Vernon rented them a single room under a fake name. Vernon didn't sleep that night, barricading the door with a chair and sitting next to the window, peering out between the blinds and holding a lamp with one hand.

They woke up the next morning and went to check out when a very confused clerk handed them a massive bin full of letters addressed to Dudley at the motel. Vernon grabbed the entire bin with on hand and clubbed the clerk in the side of the head with it before grabbing his family and dashing off.

" _He's one of them... he's one of them..."_ he whispered under his breath repeatedly.

They didn't stop to eat, drink, or use the restroom for the remainder of the day. Occasionally Vernon would stop the car, get out, survey their surroundings, shake his head, and get back in the car before driving off. He did this in the middle of a forest, the center of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked his mother during one of the stops.

Petunia was about to reply in the negative, but paused. That seemed about what had happened, but she didn't know what to do. She'd seen the look in her husband's eyes. She didn't think she'd be able to stop him.

Finally, Vernon parked them on a beach and ran off into the darkness.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother.

"The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "

Suddenly, Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!" It was very cold outside the car. Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Vernon, "so all aboard!" It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and three bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up. "Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said gleefully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Dudley privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all. As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Dudley couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger.

Suddenly, the sound of the raindrops pounding on the windows got louder. It was like the raindrops had gotten heavier, or more solid. Dudley looked out the window and saw nothing but white.

"Mum! Dad!" he screamed in horror.

Vernon came bursting into the room instantly. It was clear that he had not been sleeping. He looked towards the window and his face went white with horror.

"No! No you don't! Please! Just leave me alone! Just leave me and my family in peace! Just let us be nice, normal folks! That's all I'm asking, I'm begging you," Vernon pleaded, getting down on his hands and knees as he begged the letter-senders.

Vernon's pleas went unanswered, as with a groan and a mighty crash the windows shattered inwards and letters stormed through the air, burying the Dursleys waist-deep in parchment.

" _That does it,"_ Vernon muttered, " _THAT DOES IT!"_

 _"YOU WANT THE BOY,"_ he yelled as he grabbed Dudley by the collar and dragged him towards the door while smacking Petunia into the corner, " _YOU CAN HAVE HIM!"_

With a great heave, he threw his son in the direction the letters were coming from, but they didn't stop coming.

 _They would never stop coming._

 _They wouldn't stop coming until Vernon beat them to it._

 _These letters, they were his and Petunia's punishment for what they'd done to their nephew._

 _That was alright. He knew what to do now. It was why he'd bought the package._

He reached through the pile of letters until he groped the package. Unwrapping it, he revealed a large rifle. He aimed it at his terrified wife, still lying on the ground in horror.

"This is the only way, Petunia. This is the only way the letters will stop."

"VERNON! NO! WAI-"

A crack and muzzle flash cut her off permanently.

"ARE YOU HAPPY?" Vernon screamed at the letters but they just kept coming. Figures. There was only one thing left to do.

Two days later, police located the missing Dursley family, the victims of what seemed to be a family suicide on a remote island. The only survivor was one Dudley Dursley, who was rocking on his knees in the corner of the worn shack, muttering to himself, "The letters. The letters. The letters. They're coming for me. Can't escape them."


	21. Chapter 21: A Fateful Voyage

**I, Neolyph, come once again readers to bring you another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. I'm glad to know that you guys enjoyed last chapter. I was slightly hesitant to take such a dark turn, but it seemed to have turned out for the best. Reviews were very enthusiastic, for which I'm glad. I really appreciate it when you guys place reviews giving high and low points for both the chapter and story. I genuinely do take them into account as I write, not to mention they help motivate me to write.**

 **Review Response Time!**

 **Loll: Lemons are something I'm considering. I've never written one before, so they might be kind of awful if I do write them.**

 **The Last of the order of 100: I meant to write that last chapter, but I had so many ideas I forgot. The agreement they reached is revealed this chapter.**

 **AbaddontheDevourer: In Fate/Stay Canon, Sakura's element is "Imaginary Numbers", which are capable of manipulating spiritual beings. I tried to read the wiki page explaining it and my brain died. For the sake of my sanity, Sakura uses shadows that can harm both physical and spiritual beings because I'm the writer and I say so.**

 **sandmanwake: I hesitate to call Harry "evil". Were I to put Harry on a DnD alignment chart, he'd land on Lawful Evil, but when I write him I'm more aiming for "Magnificent Bastard". Evil, but respectably so. Harry is not a good person, but doesn't kill people without reason, and he always thinks ahead to do it in ways that minimize casualties. He isn't a cackling evil like Voldemort, he just doesn't care who he hurts so long as he isn't close to them. He acts like a good person because he believes that good is pragmatic, he believes that evil only works in the short-term, while good works in the long-term. If you've ever read it, he essentially has the same philosophy as Lord Vetinari from Discworld. Or if that's too obscure, he's simply Machiavellian. He values fear and respect over love, but only if he cannot have both.**

 **AnimeA55Kicker: I'm writing the articles out primarily to show _how_ exactly Harry is destroying Dumbledore with them. You're right though. Unless the article had something significant, I'm going to start summarizing them.**

 **Bonestar: I don't like Magical Girl Anime, so probably not. Harry had no idea how to find the Fae.**

 **Delta8: The Servant's possess Magical Resistance as part of their class abilities, so they're pretty much immune to all but very high-tier Magecraft. The homunculi were specifically designed to be magically resistant, so they could shrug it off pretty easily.**

 **VentXekart: Oh that still might happen. Dudley has been remanded to a mental facility for the moment, but afterwards, child services will be looking to pass him off to his next of kin. Guess who that is? Not to mention with the magical core, he qualifies for late admission to Hogwarts.**

 **MWRANDOM: I've dropped a couple hints as to who Voldemort is possessing. I'm surprised that nobody has figured it out yet. I talked with Arawn though, and he agreed that it was pretty clever.**

 **tlhgeek: I can admire a ruthless character in a story, like Harry, but I don't like excessive gore. I get it if it successfully gets the point across, but after that it's just offputting.**

 **FuZzvKiNgZz: As a sociopath, power is one of the few values Daphne can objectively value. Trust me, the cult is forming.**

 **Sytekh: There you touch upon the primary issues of my story, and trust me, I'm aware of them. I'm pretty much brand-new at writing, so I started this story on a wing and a prayer. I had no clear characters in mind nor any idea as to a plot. Now I'm trying to balance characterization and pacing while juggling plot. Half the plot I write I'm making up as I write it. As you said, we're nine chapters into the arc and we've just gotten to the troll attack. I find difficulty writing certain characters such as Saber or Sakura because I'm struggling to pin down what sort of character I want them to be. I suppose that most of these problems can be chalked up to my simply being a new/bad writer. That this story had gotten as much of a following as it had shows that I'm doing something right, but for the life of me I don't really know what it is. Searching by favorites, this story is listed above the first Herwald von Einzbern story. It has its flaws, but its a hell of a lot better than mine. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story though and are willing to give it an honest critique. Ciao.**

 **warrof: Rin's doing fine. She's a magus prodigy working on acquiring acceptance to the Clock Tower. She doesn't need Archer to protect her.**

Chapter 21: A Fateful Voyage

Despite Harry having a good week, certain others were not. Dumbledore's attempts at finding the source of his leak had been largely unsuccessful. He was rapidly running out of suspects. In spite of a thorough use of Legilimency, the Granger girl didn't know a thing about the newspaper articles, even if she approved heartily of the issues raised in them. When that had failed, he'd gone down the list of every student that the Sorting Hat told him might be brave or curious enough to investigate the third floor corridor, to no avail.

That was another thing that irritated him. Some of the first suspects the Hat crossed off had been Harry Potter, Illyasviel von Emiya, and Sakura Emiya, along with the rest of Slytherin House. While he was still keeping an eye on the trio, due in large part to Harry's…peculiar condition, and the two girls because of the oddities of their Sorting, from the way the Hat spoke on them they were unlikely to do something that would draw the ire of their Head of House.

At least he didn't have to mentally search the house with the largest percentage of Occlumency users. That would have been a _nightmare_ _,_ _not to mention the risk of a student feeling his probes and reporting him to their parents_ _._ _There was a limit to how much he could lie to cover his actions, and the use of Mind Magic on children from Pureblood families would not be well received._ _The_ two houses he was primarily looking intowere Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Hufflepuff students were mostly… well... duffers. Something like this wouldn't occur to most of them, they were more likely to march to his office and complain as a group than to use the _Prophet_ to students, however, had the bravery to defy authority and seek out things like the third floor corridor while Ravenclaw students had the respect for academics and curiosity that would drive them to protest student favoritism and school policy.

He was still going down the list, but he was already three quarters of the way through and so far he had no results.

It didn't help that he was constantly being called to stand before the board to answer various inquiries. Malfoy was currently heading the witch-hunt with an air of smug self-satisfaction. If Dumbledore didn't know better, he'd say the man knew something that he himself didn't.

But that thought was preposterous. He was Albus Dumbledore, Greatest Wizard since Merlin and Master of the Elder Wand.

Or, at least, _had been_.

He was greatly worried as of late. The Elder Wand had not been responding to his magic as well as it used to. The only explanation was that some event had occurred that caused the wand toswitch its' allegiance to a new owner. He couldn't fathom, however, what could have happened to make the wand deem him being "defeated" in a physical fight. Sure, he'd taken a political beating, but the wand shouldn't register that, it only registered when it was taken from the owner without said owner's approval.

Or would it?

Sure, the story of the Peverells stated that the brother with the Elder Wand was killed, but the lore only said that a "defeat", was enough to lose the Elder Wand; it didn't specify physically.

He sighed. If that was true, it meant that one of three people would be recognized as the new owner. Either Lord Ravenclaw, Lord Slytherin, or the source providing the damning information they were using. The two Lords owned the newspaper, but the source was the one passing along the information being used to hang him,meaning that they were likely to be in Hogwarts, making them the prime suspect. He couldn't do much for the first two, but the source was within his reach.

Hmm... there was a possibility that the wand might react if placed in the presence of its new owner. If he could get that to happen, he'd be able to both reclaim his wand and uncover the source of the slanderous material.

He just needed to devise a plan...

Speaking of the two Lords, his other major headache was coming from the Wizengamot, or more specifically, the joint Ravenclaw-Slytherin representative. The white-haired man had refused to identify himself beyond what he presumed to be an alias: Archer. This had drawn quite a lot of complains from the other Lords, but in the end, no matter how much they wished to have the man's real name, they had no legal grounds to question him. He had given proof that both Lord Ravenclaw and Lord Slytherin had appointed him as representative, which was all that truly mattered in the eyes of the law.

He had, of course, attempted to get a feel for the man, but 'Archer' had secluded himself in the private seating area of the assembly reserved for the Founders for the entirety of every meeting, only speaking to criticize a particular politician or proposition, in ways that even he couldn't help but admire.

The man had a tongue that matched the two families he represented. When Dolores Umbridge had attempted to slip some anti-Magical Creature legislation past the Lords, he'd called her back up and insulted both her and her bill in roughly forty-five different ways over the course of fifteen minutes, all under the guise of questioning the details of the bill.

What was worse was that the woman was too dense to realize it, and was understandably shocked when the bill failed by an almost unanimous denial. He remembered it fondly...

Flashback

 _"So, may I presume from the wording of this bill that it is to regulate any forms of magical creatures? Regardless of sentience or social standing?"_

 _"Yes. That is correct, my Lord."_

 _"I see. Now, since there are quite a few species of magical animals, some with lesser degrees of sentience, would they be covered under this bill?"_

 _"Yes, I suppose, though I don't know why you're pursuing this line of questioning."_

 _"Well, say a magical, humanoid toad had wormed its way into a prominent position? Senior Undersecretary perhaps? Would it be forced to step down from its office?"_

 _"Hypothetically speaking, yes."_

 _A smattering of laughter filled the Wizengamot._ _Said laughter grew even stronger when Umbridge preened, looking pleased that Archer was pointing out the details of her bill, not realizing that he had been insulting her from the beginning while also pointing out how useless said bill was._

 _"Marvelous. Just a few more questions then..."_

 _Flashback end_

Dumbledore had been pleased; it seemed that this Archer fellow, and by extension Lords Ravenclaw and Slytherin, were not irredeemably would make it easier for him to convince them to listen to him, since with their help he would be able to truly change Wizardry Britain for the Greater Good.

At least, he'd thought that right until he had, assured that he didn't need to monitor the new variable, missed a meeting to attend an "emergency meeting" of the Hogwarts Board of Directors that Lucius Malfoy had called.

While he was attending, Archer had apparently called for the House of Malfoy to be granted a full Lordship and seat on the Wizengamot, in recognition of his, "generous and selfless contribution to improving the economic status of Wizarding England."

With the Chief Warlock absent, the decision to bring the matter to vote fell to the highest ranking official present, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge of course was almost entirely within Malfoy's pocket. The vote had immediately been called. The Light Houses under his guidance did their best to oppose, but between Slytherin, Ravenclaw, the recently-restored Greengrasses, and the rest of the remaining Dark families, the vote passed.

That was one of the things that irritated him the most. The Dark families had defied him. Perhaps they had taken the sudden induction of Lords Ravenclaw and Slytherin as a sign of changing winds. The apparent alliance between the two families and Malfoy just made that all the clearer.

Ravenclaw, Malfoy, and Slytherin must have made some sort of backdoor deal. Everyone knew that the one thing the Malfoy family desired but didn't possess was a true Lordship. They had as much wealth as they desired, but no technical power of their own. Now, they had legitimacy. Whatever the two Lords were getting in return, it must be truly enormous, as with Dumbledore deadlocking the Wizengamot he had no chance of getting a nomination to pass.

So they had removed him from the equation by calling him away to the one obligation they knew he could not pass up with his already tenuous hold on his Headmaster's position.

It was a brilliant political maneuver worthy of Slytherin, but a potentially disastrous one.

With Malfoy sitting on the Wizengamot and the Dark houses rebelling, he'd serve as a rallying point for them. This was nothing short of a polite coup d'état. They were attempting to pull the Wizengamot out from under him! While he was still Chief Warlock!

Though, with the hits his reputation was taking lately, that might be subject to change soon.

He needed to go on the offensive.

-Break-

Lucius Malfoy sat at his dinner table, swirling a glass of wine.

 _Lord_ Lucius Malfoy.

Merlin's beard, he loved the way that rolled off the tongue. And all thanks to Potter.

Potter, Potter, Potter. Now there was a name that he couldn't get his mind off, and ironically it was neither his political rival nor the Boy-Who-Lived. It was the obscure twin that had come out of the blue and begun silently overtaking the magical world by storm. He'd been intrigued when he brought the boy for dinner, but he was both fascinated and impressed by the time he left.

The boy had obviously done his research. Not five minutes into dinner, he smoothly segued the conversation to the recent ongoings of the Wizengamot. This of course led him to the absolute tragedy that the Malfoy family did not technically possess a Lordship despite their respect and status.

Why, a family or two with enough weight behind their names could quite easily make that so if they were provided the proper incentive.

And so through intense negotiations, a deal was struck.

He had agreed to provide overt political power and the legitimacy attached to his name in exchange for young Harry Potter providing the Malfoy family with a Lordship and agreeing to a political alliance.

Both sides knew that it would be best to keep their word when it came to one another.

He could spill the beans as to his recent ally's plans and completely ruin them, but then he'd be killed soon after. Potter had enough money and influence to keep sending hit-wizards after him until one of them got while he was confident in his wards, there was… _something_ … about him that unsettled him, even though he hid it. The way he worked, manipulating everything from the shadows, eerily reminded him of the Dark Lord of the beginnings, when he had still been a great tactician and not the half-mad abomination he had become later.

He found it an excellent working relationship, just to his liking.

Potter had delivered on his end of the deal, so it was time for him to deliver on his.

He perused the file he had appropriated through his contacts in the Auror Department, he wasn't sure _why_ exactly Potter had asked him to acquire this particular file, but he fully intended to find out before he handed it over.

" _Nicolas Flamel",_ it read on the cover.

As he read through the file, he nearly burst out laughing.

That boy was worthy of his titles indeed.

-Break-

Harry was interrupted from writing his Potion's essay by the arrival of Rider, bearing a parchment folder. She handed it over and he opened it up eagerly. When he learned that Flamel was a semi-famous figure in certain Wizarding circles, he took a guess that the Ministry might have a file on him. To that end, he'd asked Lucius to poke around his Ministry contacts for said file.

The fact that the file was held by the Aurors was certainly interesting.

He flipped through it rapidly, searching for any recent information on the man. From the notations in the file, Flamel was some sort of Dark Wizard in league with Voldemort, and was responsible for several mass sacrifices of innocents to fuel dark magical rituals.

The filed looked legitimate, but the problem Harry encountered was that Riddle's memories contained no mention of Flamel, which meant that either Riddle had been Obliviated before his death, unlikely, or that the file was fake.

The details of Flamel's crimes seemed to be accurate, however. Fueling rituals with human souls and magical energy was an established, if distasteful, practice for Magi. The file wasn't detailed enough for him to deduce the exact rituals Flamel had performed, but he had some suspicions. Suspicions, though, were useless when it came to practical Magecraft.

Two questions were raised by this file. The first was who had framed Flamel for working with Riddle, and why. The second was where Flamel was now.

He soon found the solution to the first query when he looked at the details of the case. Due to the monstrous nature of the accused, it had been closed to the public, but had been presided over by the Chief Warlock, one Albus Dumbledore. How the Headmaster knew of Flamel, he couldn't fathom, but it was clear that Dumbledore had lead both the investigation and trial.

This was bothersome. If Dumbledore knew enough of Flamel to have him arrested, he might have gained a rudimentary knowledge of Magecraft. Fortunately, it would be only rudimentary, as a proper Magus would kill themselves before revealing the mysteries of Magecraft to an outsider.

It did explain how the old man got the stone though. Such a thing would easily be recovered in a police seizure, had Flamel failed to set up Bounded Fields prior to his capture, or reached a point where he could no longer power them. He just hoped that the man had not left behind research journals or notes,those, even when coded, would hold information he really didn't want Dumbledore to be privy of.

He skimmed through the case notes, searching for the sentencing. If it was death, he had no worries, but if not, he'd have to track down wherever they'd detained the wayward Magus.

And deal with him. His finger tapped a name in the file.

Azkaban Prison.

His Potion's essay could wait. It was time for a field trip.

-Break-

The weather was positively disastrous as Harry and the girls rowed across the North Sea. Well technically, the two Imperiused Aurors rowed the magical boat while Harry and Caster focused on setting up a small Bounded Field to warm the shivering Sakura and Illya.

Harry had initially intended to simply teleport to the island, but it was apparently Unplottable. It could only be found by those who already knew where it is, or by pre-established routes. For this reason, they had found out where the Wizenmagot remanded criminals prior to their shipment to the island prison. Shortly thereafter, they'd arrived at a small dock with a guardhouse on it containing two Aurors playing Wizard Chess. Since these two were obviously the ones responsible for shipping the prisoners to the island, Harry decided that they'd make excellent guides, once given the proper _persuasion_.

The maids volunteered to stay behind and deal with anyone that came to check on the guardhouse. There weren't any boats scheduled to go to the island for the rest of the day, but it was always better to be safe. It wasn't like they would be needed for a simple trip like this anyway.

The fog was thicker than Orion and Zelretch combined as they rowed through it, obscuring anything more than a foot or so from the boat.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Sakura asked. "When most Wizards speak of Azkaban, it is always in hushed tones. There must be a reason for them fearing it."

Harry shrugged. He had of course read of the Dementors. Voldemort had worked in tandem with them during the first war, and Harry had to admit that they were rather frightening. To counter their rumored aura, he and Caster had placed a magical circle on the boat that would prevent any external prana from entering its area of protection.

"We'll be fine," he comforted Sakura, "I'm not going to let anything hurt us."

"I know; I just don't want you to take unnecessary risks."

Harry sighed. When _Sakura_ was questioning his decision making, it warranted a second thought.

"We have to do this Sakura," he reasoned, "the fact that Dumbledore had this man sent here means that he had some idea as to the man's ability. If he starts drawing parallels between us and Flamel, he might start drawing other conclusions."

"Indeed," Saber agreed. "I speak from experience. If Wizards that glorify Merlin learned of the true power contained in Magecraft, the results would be disastrous."

Sakura saw the logic in that. If the Wizard Merlin was the same as the Magus Merlin, it was for the best that they never learned of Magecraft. She'd heard horror stories from Saber. Even if the Merlin Saber knew tended to use his skills mostly for pranks, the few times he was serious were absolutely terrifying, enough so to warrant caution.

"Not to mention, this is a magical circle _I_ designed," Caster added with a hint of pride, "Hecate herself couldn't cast a spell through this bounded field."

Suddenly, as uneasy feeling overcame the group. It was as if the air was growing colder, and in fact frost was growing on the edges of the boat. From somewhere beyond the fog, a feeling of dread emanated.

Memories flashed before Harry's vision.

A drunk Vernon kicking his prone form in the ribs for not bringing in the newspaper.

Desperately struggling to climb a tree as Marge's rottweiler Ripper closed in behind him, living up to his name as he ripped into his leg and dragged him back down to the ground.

The unspeakable pain of the first few months in the wormpit, silently screaming as the worms burrowed into his lungs and behind his eyes.

The feeling in his garden when he first bit the apple and his very nerves were converted to magical circuits.

His possession by Angra Mainyu, his body moving by itself as it tried to kill Sakura and the rest of the girls.

His subsequent suicide.

A single sound made it through the haze of his mind.

The sound of Sakura, Illya, and Daphne screaming.

The sound of the Servants screaming in his mind.

He tried his best to clear his mind, he reached out for the three girls, to comfort them. The three of them reached out for him as well, trying to reach past their pain. Their fingers were inches from touching one another when blackness overtook them.

Blackness and pain.

-Break-

Inside Sakura's fragile mind, visions flipped through her perception like a slideshow.

She was herself playing with Rin.

She saw her father and Zouken Matou talking.

She saw her mother explaining that she was going to be living with the man from then on.

She heard Rin coldly telling her that it was her duty as a Tohsaka magus to obey her parents.

She remembered the worms.

She remembered the pain.

Kind Uncle Kariya smiled down at her, promising her that everything would be okay.

She watched the worms eat his corpse less than a month later.

She soon joined the worms.

Then Harry joined the worms.

Harry.

She would never deserve him. Some dirty, defiled thing such as herself could never deserve him.

That she was even thinking these thoughts proved she didn't deserve him.

She couldn't even offer him her body, not when he had women like Rider, Caster, and Assassin throwing themselves at him. They were so... womanly, and she was just a little girl. She couldn't compare.

She would never compare.

Harry only stayed with her out of pity.

Pity she didn't deserve.

-Break-

Illya wasn't quite sure what was going on. One minute she'd been sitting in a boat, the next mi-

She was strapped on an operating table, pleading at the dispassionate maids as they cut into her flesh, " _stop. please. it hurts so much."_

They did not stop.

Two maids passed her in the hallway, carrying something covered by a sheet.

She followed them to an underwater reservoir filled with discarded homunculi. " _Live on for us, "_ they begged her even as they bled out into the water.

Her mother's beautiful face smiled down at her, before morphing into a monstrous visage of the Grail.

She looked down and saw herself riding on her father's shoulders as he raised his gun and emptied it into her mother.

She wanted this to end.

She wanted Big Brother.

-Break-

Daphne's head was reeling. She recognized this feeling. It had been during the trial of her Uncle Crowley, when he'd been escorted into the courtroom by two Dementors. It was the same feeling, multiplied by a thousand. This draining sense of dread. Memories dredged themselves up unbidden, memories of her training under her mother. The beatings, the Cruciatus curse, the dark times in the basement where she desperately held back tears from hunger.

She felt the pain and desperation over and over again. Not even her Occlumency could shut out the pain. She couldn't focus enough.

This was not good.

-Break-

Medusa didn't know what was going on, but she needed to end it quickly. Her well-honed sense for danger had told her that a great threat lurked in the fog, but she had been unsure as to what it was.

Then it had hit her.

She had moved to steer the boat away from danger, relying on her magical resistance to stave off whatever malevolent aura was affecting them. Unfortunately, whatever this was, it was not prana-based. It slipped right by her defenses and penetrated her mind.

The feeling exploded inside her head, dragging back up memories of her life. Memories she had thought long-buried.

Her comfortable life of adoration from the masses being stripped from her by Athena, and her subsequent banishment to the Shapeless Isle.

She sadistically slaughtered all who dared tread on the island in the name of protecting her sisters.

Slowly, she morphed into the monster she was, until she devoured her own sisters before allowing herself to be slain by Perseus out of guilt.

Her summoning by Harry, but failure to notice the signs of his slow possession by Angra Mainyu.

Her failure to save him.

Painful memories played themselves before her eyes like a demented slideshow.

Memories she could not stop.

-Break-

As the ominous feeling approached, Medea opened her mouth to invoke an incantation that would stave off foreign mental influences, but was a second too late as the malignancy slammed into her mind with the force of a cudgel.

Her prided rationality was useless as her mind accessed memories that she had locked away for her own sanity.

She was suddenly forced to think of her idyllic upbringing as Princess of Colchis. Her naive outlook and sweet personality.

It was all corrupted by Aphrodite and Jason. She was forced to love him, betraying her father and murdering her own brother for him.

He used her, violated her, and then tossed her away like a piece of _trash._

The people decried her as a witch and traitor.

And so she had become a witch and traitor, _destroying_ anyone who crossed her on a whim.

She seduced a young nobleman, convincing him to leave his wife and marry her instead. He loved her so much that he didn't think twice before leaving all of his possessions to her.

It was a shame when he was found stabbed in the back the next morning.

Finally, she met her end, unrepentant and sent to the Throne of Heroes for her infamy.

It was there that she was tortured for her causeless actions.

Then she found a cause in Harry, someone to love, someone to protect.

And he had died right in front of her.

Love was something a vile woman like herself didn't deserve, after all.

-Break-

Assassin's soul was burning. She was unsure as to what was happening, but she knew where she was.

The Throne of Heroes.

Away from her god.

No no no no no no no!

This could not happen! Had she been unfaithful? Had she displeased him?

She knew it. She had failed him.

She was receiving her punishment in this nightmarish purgatory, the same purgatory where she had discovered the nonexistence of her false god, Allah.

Now she had found her true god, Harry, and he had banished her.

She wept.

-Break-

The memories that Arthuria was once again experiencing were... unpleasant. They were memories of her kingship. She was tortured by memories of both her necessary decisions and mistakes.

She callously stood by and watched as her knights stripped a village of its food to feed the army as it marched to repel a barbarian invasion.

She vowed that a king did not show feeling, did not show emotions. She kept this oath for so long that she stopped feeling emotions entirely.

Even when she ordered the execution of her wife Guinevere for having a justified affair with Lancelot, she did not feel anything but resignation. The inevitable civil war led by Lancelot brought nothing but a tired dispassion.

When her own son ended her life, she only felt the crushing failure of her kingship.

As she laid dying on the holy isle of Avalon, she still felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

She did not truly feel again until she fell for Harry. He brought her out of her shell, made her feel for the first time... like a woman.

Then he had died.

And she felt despair.

That despair overwhelmed her mind, crushing her being.

She could only take refuge in unconsciousness.

-Break-

Inside the tentative consciousness that was Panzer, panic was rising up like a tsunami. All had been well, when suddenly it had felt a strange feeling before Master screamed and collapsed. It analyzed the feeling, seeing if it could stem it off somehow.

It was as if the feeling was sentient, streaming through its few memories and looking for unpleasant ones.

Unfortunately, Panzer hadn't possessed consciousness long enough to actually _have_ bad memories. Instead, it only felt a mild discomfort.

Since its Master was unconscious, it stiffened and moved his body back up like a puppet. It couldn't separate from him, as that would leave him vulnerable to attackers.

Next to it, a dark form materialized out of the air.

A _very_ angry Berserker.

The boat shook and nearly capsized as his massive weight stressed the magically reinforced wood to its limits. His Mad Enhancement blocked mental influence of any sort, including that of non-magical origin. There was no room in his mind for anything but madness and loyalty to his Master. When his Master and former Mistress had collapsed, his blood boiled and he'd materialized to _destroy_ the threat.

From the dark fog, hundreds of shadowy figures flew out like a flock of bats. They hovered for a brief moment before diving at the boat in a swarm of misery.

In response, from Harry's armor two elongated whips flowed out and poised to strike. The metallic tentacles were sharp down to the molecular lever, ready to defend their Master from these strange beasts.

Berserker lacked the patience to wait for them to come at him. He jumped to a nearby rock jutting out of the water and used it as a springboard to launch himself at the Dementors.

The soul-sucking beings seemed confused by one of their victims not being crippled by their aura and paused in the air. This proved fatal when Berserker spun in the air and materialized his crude blade. With a single slash, a dozen of them were bisected and dropped out of the sky. The rest quickly overcame their shock and latched themselves onto him. One crawled to his face, even as he swung his weapon at himself, relying on his immense strength to keep his weapon from harming him.

Air distorted as the lone Dementor remaining on him latched himself on the giant's face and attempted to suck his soul out. With a single hand, Berserker crushed the wraith in his fist.

On the boat, Panzer's whips had multiplied to eight as they slashed through the air in a frenzy of razor sharp metal. Any Dementor that came within slashing distance quickly found themselves missing a few pieces.

But it wasn't enough.

For every Dementor they killed, four more flew from the fog. This was their home and breeding ground, and they would defend it to the death. There was also the fact that the souls approaching on this boat positively _glowed_ with misery, and that several of the souls were filled to the brim with power.

Panzer needed to get Master out of there, and there was only one way to do that. Two whips latched onto the oars and began moving in perfect coordination. With the speed of a motor, Panzer rowed the boat away from danger. The Dementors pursued, but Berserker slowed them down by leaping from the various stone outcroppings in the rocky water, each leaps spelling the death for any wraithin his path.

Finally, they passed through some invisible barrier and the Dementors stopped. They had reached their boundary, and while the Ministry controlled Azkaban they were bound to the island.

They'd be back though.

-Break-

It was always strange to wake up in an unfamiliar location, like a beach. Harry tried to sit up, but his limbs felt like lead. With all the speed of molasses, he turned and looked to the right. The girls were all laying on the rocky English beach in various states of consciousness. Illya and Sakura were still out, but Daphne seemed to have dragged herself over to a tree and propped herself against it.

"Are you alright, my Lord?" she queried. She was pale and shaking, but clearly well enough to care for something else than her own well-being.

"To be honest," he replied sardonically, "I've been better."

Mentally, he was beating himself up. He should have prepared for the possibility of the Dementor aura not being prana-based. It was the only explanation for how it had bypassed the bounded field.

"It's alright, Master. If there is any blame to be had, it lies with me. As a Caster-class Servant, it is my duty to advise you on matters of magic. I have failed in that," Caster apologized from her place on his left. Her voice was soft, and held an undertone of self-depreciation that he felt didn't suit her.

"No," he replied forcefully, "it wasn't. We were all unprepared for the Wizards to have a foe such as that. We're going to have to research the techniques Wizards use to deal with those creatures."

By this point Saber had already risen, and was stumbling in his direction. Harry could see on her face how what she'd seen had affected her. Clearly, as bad as he had it, his Servants hadn't come out of it unscathed either.

She looked miserable, a far cry from the usually confident woman he had come to appreciate.

He was about to greet her when a black form suddenly appeared on his prone form. Assassin had come seemingly from nowhere and latched onto him, sobbing into his shirt. He could imagine what she'd seen when the Dementors had attacked, and with great effort put an arm around her to reassure her.

He looked back up to see Saber watching them with a conflicted expression.

"Are you al-" he managed to get out before she wrenched him up into a sitting position and buried her face in his shoulder, weeping uncontrollably.

Sometimes he forgot that out of his heroic spirits, she was the youngest. She'd only been nineteen when she had been killed by Mordred. Most would consider her still a child, even if she'd had the burden of kingship to weigh on her thin shoulders.

He was unsure of what she had seen, but if what he had seen in the dream cycle was any indication, she needed the comfort. He wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her closer. Her grip was uncomfortably tight, but he could barely feel his body anyway.

When he felt Panzer shift in response, he quickly told it to stand down. One of the first things he'd tried to teach it was that it was _never_ to consider the girls a threat, but the lessons hadn't quite stuck. It was like training a dog, sometimes it was a lesson that had to be taught through repetition.

It also made him wonder how he'd escaped the Dementors. In response to his thought, Panzer played its memories of the incident in his head. It really made him glad he'd set it up to act autonomously. Berserker might have been able to fight them, but something like rowing a boat was something he'd be unable to do without direct instructions. He sent positive feelings to let it know that he was pleased by how it had reacted to the situation, and it practically glowed with pleasure. Berserker hadn't reastralized, and was instead standing behind him like a sentinel and scanning the horizon as if he was expecting more Dementors to ambush them.

At seeing his Master wake, he sent a mental question that, while more a feeling than actual words, expressed concern. That such a feeling managed to make it through the whirling maelstrom of anger and madness that was Berserker's mind showed how concerned the giant was.

"I'm fine," he assured the Servant of Madness. Berserker looked at him for a moment, as if to verify the claim, before grunting and going back to scanning the horizon.

By this point, Saber had stopped sobbing, though Assassin didn't seem like she would be stopping any time soon. The former King looked slightly ashamed at her perceived weakness and backed up a bit. He put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"It's alright, Saber. There's no shame in taking comfort in another after an experience like that."

Said Servant looked like she disagreed, but nodded anyway. Harry changed the topic.

"Where's Rider?" he asked, his throat hoarse. He was just noticing how absolutely parched he was.

Saber motioned towards the sea and replied, "She took the boat and went to row the two guards we borrowed back to their station and pick up the maids. She should be back in a few minutes."

Ahh, yes. With A+ Rank Riding, she'd be able to move any vehicle far faster than it was ever meant to go.

"Can you go check on Sakura and Illya? I imagine that with their histories the Dementors hit them pretty hard."

Saber nodded, "Yes, Master."

Slowly, she rose and went the few yards to where the two girls were still lying unconscious. Saber knelt next to them and put her hands on their foreheads

"They seem to be running slight fevers, Master. Are you aware of a remedy for the effects of those foul creatures?"

Harry racked Tom's memories for a counter or cure for the Dementor aura. Honestly, he could use one himself.

Chocolate?

That was the cure for after an encounter with one of the most dangerous creatures he'd ever fought? Chocolate?

He sighed and blamed it on Wizards.

Channeling the Denial of Nothingness, he created a small mound of chocolate bars in front of himself. He picked one up and bit into it before distributing them to the rest. Assassin he had to practically pry off him and force-feed the chocolate bar. It didn't seem to improve her mood as she went back to her clinging.

He supposed that if letting her cling to him for a while would help her recover from the Dementors, it was a price he was willing to pay.

The sound of light coughing alerted him to Sakura waking up. He picked up a chocolate bar and tossed it to Saber, who was still keeping vigil over the two girls. The second Sakura was coherent, Saber fed her the chocolate. It would not best to not let the girl dwell on what the Dementors had shown her.

Illya woke up shortly after, and the procedure was repeated on her. By the time they were done, Rider had come back with the boat and the maids. They immediately sprung out to check on their charges, but Harry waved them off. It had been a trying day and he just wanted to get back to Hogwarts.

The ride back to drop the boat off was silent. Everyone was busy thinking on what the Dementors had shown them.

The sun was setting by the time they dropped the boat off and teleported back to Hogwarts.

Inside their Slytherin dorm, no words were exchanged as they changed into their nightclothes and crawled into bed, shamelessly taking comfort in one another.

All of them eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

-Break-

Dumbledore was tearing his beard out in frustration. He needed to fill this gap in the History of Magic position fast if he was to keep his position, but he couldn't find anyone in the Order that could fill it properly. That would mean inviting an outsider, and that would mean opening up the school to Death Eater infiltrators, or even Voldemort himself.

He was currently flipping through the various applications he'd received after putting an ad out for the position. Unfortunately, most people that specialized in History of Magic were pureblood genealogists and therefore likely supremacists. Most Muggleborns lacked an appreciation for a history they did not see as their own.

A single file finally stood out to him, that of Medea Caster. It looked promising; halfblood, creature heritage, born and raised outside England, and educated at Beauxbatons. High grades in the History of Magic, but rather lackluster in the rest.

Between all of these, it was virtually impossible for this woman to be a Pureblood Supremacist. Those circles would never accept someone with creature heritage, not to mention that they had virtually no influence outside of England.

It looked like he'd found his candidate.

He pulled out a quill and penned a letter to Miss Caster, inviting her for an interview, and gave it to a Hogwarts owl.

And now, he waited.

-Break-

While Dumbledore was sending a letter, Lily Potter was receiving one from her classroom as she graded papers.

Curious, she opened it up and nearly dropped it in shock.

Petunia and her husband were dead, in a family suicide.

Her nephew Dudley was in the custody of Child Services while they did a mental evaluation. Apparently, he was traumatized by the incident. After they were done and he was cleared for release, they wanted to pass him off to his next of kin. That was problematic. She'd be willing to do it, but Dudley was not a wizard so it might cause some problems.

That is, until she read the next part of the letter. Two Aurors had been tasked with investigating the case to ensure that it wasn't Death Eaters indirectly targeting the Potters, and learned that the cause of Vernon's breakdown was a continuous flood of... Hogwarts letters?

Dudley was a wizard?

She supposed it made sense, in a way. Her being a witch meant that magical blood did run in the family, so it was possible that Dudley had inherited it. Had he displayed some latent magical ability that caused the Hogwarts Quill to start sending him letters? From what she'd heard, the quill worked automatically and sent letters to anyone in England that was not on the Hogwarts registry but displayed magic, and would keep sending letters until one was opened. Her own parents had ignored the first few letters until a dozen had arrived on their doorstep and her parents had finally beencurious enough.

Petunia though would likely recognize the letters, and if she didn't want Dudley to be a wizard she might not have opened them. So the quill would have kept sending them...

Even if it drove the recipients mad...

She felt ill.

Why had Dumbledore not stopped the quill?

"Are you alright dear?" James asked as he poked his head in and saw his wife's expression.

Lily stood. "I need to talk to Dumbledore."

-Break-

A soft knocking alerted Dumbledore to a presence at his door, well, that and the intruder wards on the door.

"Come in, Lily," he called out. He loved calling out visitors by name. It was great for image.

A shell-shocked Lily stepped into his office, clutching a letter in white knuckles.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. Lily wasn't usually like this.

Lily paused and as if in a trance asked, "Headmaster, has the Hogwarts Quill been acting strange lately?

He didn't know why she was asking, but he answered honestly.

"I'm not too sure. I haven't noticed it acting up, but any young witches or wizards should have already been invited to the school. Admittedly, I haven't been in the office much in the last two weeks or so."

Without a word, Lily handed him the letter.

He pushed his glasses up his nose and read through it, a frown marring his face.

So the Dursley adults were dead and their son was orphaned.

And he was a wizard.

Well that ruined a few of his plans. He had originally intended to convince the Potters to send Harry back to them for the summer. Voldemort hadn't had a happy family life, so it was important to ensure that Harry didn't either. The only variable between the two should be his own influence if the experiment was to yield viable results.

Not to mention now the Potters would take their nephew in. That was something he wouldn't be able to talk Lily out of; she loved her sister too much to leave her son in an orphanage.

"My condolences, Lily. Would you like leave for mourning?" he asked.

By this point, Lily had broken down crying, but she quickly composed herself and shook her head.

"No, just a few days to settle her affairs and file for Dudley's adoption. Will you arrange for his acceptance to Hogwarts?"

He gave a nod and smile carefully calculated to show kindness and sympathy in equal amounts. "Of course."

Lily dried her eyes, nodded, and left the room.

-Break-

Why couldn't Harry just catch a break? His problem?

Dudley had survived.

He honestly had not anticipated that. Perhaps, in some twisted way, Vernon had genuinely cared for Dudley enough to spare him the slaughter. Either way, giving Dudley a magical core was about to come back and bite him.

He'd have to tread _very_ carefully for his involvement in the boy's orphaning to remain unknown. They'd likely blame it on the Hogwarts Quill, but that excuse might not hold up to greater scrutiny.

The worst part was that his mother would inevitably take the boy in, and he'd have yet another face on his list of people he had to put up a mask around.

And Dudley would likely get sorted into Slytherin.

Now that he thought about it... that was something he could work with. It might be useful to have a scapegoat that few would question. It would just take a few polite conversations for his wayward cousin to come around to reason. His sort of reason anyway.

A positively _wicked_ grin stretched across his face.

-Break-

At St. Brutus' Orphanage, Dudley was sitting in a trance-like state on his thin bed. The doctors and social workers had managed to get him to a semi-functional state, but no further. His only two visitors had been a pair of strange cloaked men, who the adults didn't seem to notice. They had asked him a few questions and pointed some sticks at him before informing him that someone would be by in the next few days to pick him up.

He wondered who it was.

A knocking on his door heralded the arrival of his new guardians. Slowly, it opened and Dudley gulped in nervousness.

The door swung fully open to reveal a family of four. The father had messy black hair and round glasses; he seemed uncomfortable in his suit and tie, as if he wasn't used to wearing them. Next to him stood a woman with fiery red hair and a kind face. She looked around his mother's age before she had...

Regardless, standing next to the father was a slightly tubbier spitting image of him whose face bore the unmistakable sneer of arrogance. To top it off, on the mother's side stood...

Stood...

"Hello, cousin," Harry began with a smile. Dudley gulped once again.

It was not a nice smile


	22. Chapter 22: Into the Woods

**Holy shit readers, Neolyph here with another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus. This story... holy shit. I got bored and checked how this story ranked on favorites for this section. It's ranked like 6th, and has surpassed both sections of the Herwald von Einzbern series. What the fuck? Is it seriously that good? Maybe its low self-esteem, but still... what the fuck? I guess I should really thank you guys. I really underestimated how much you guys like this story I guess. I really loved the HvE series, as it was one of the first good crossover fics I read. To surpass it is a major milestone for me, so once again thank you guys. Also, 1000 reviews and 1500 favorites. You guys kick ass.**

 **Alright, gushing over. Review time.**

 **Lu Bane Na: I wanted to highlight just how fucked up Harry and his associates are. Dementors are essentially more powerful the worse memories you have, so they are technically the natural enemy of Harry and Co as every single one has a pretty messed up past and mindset. Also, I have an idea for a greater threat lurking in the Wizarding world.**

 **Generatedname: Harry technically doesn't know the Patronus charm. He learned most of his wizard magic from Voldemort's memories, and according to canon the Patronus was one of the only spells Voldemort couldn't do. So he's resorted to Plan B in this chapter. For Harry's motivation, he's essentially making a list, checking it twice, and plotting to ruin their lives. He wants to slowly ruin everyone responsible for how messed up his life was.**

 **CelticBrony: Caster is incredibly competent. She squeezed information out of that stone, but it's essentially a foreign magical system to her. As for the Dementor Aura, I argue that it is a nonmagical effect, as the only way to counter it is to essentially channel happiness, not directly counter it. It's like killing intent, but naturally produced by Dementors. Thus the only way to counter it is to channel enough happiness to ignore it. Harry and Caster fell to the Dementors due to hubris, assuming that the Dementor aura was magical in nature, despite there being no wizard research into it.**

 **Akuma-Heika: I did as much wiki-research as I could without dying of overload, but from what I gathered you could pretty much call Mordred whatever gender you like. But since Saber refers to herself as King of England despite her gender, I feel she would call Mordred her son.**

 **Xyphrose: Harry will be visiting multiple universes.**

 **Thodekke: Sorry, but it's how I write. When I start a chapter, I always write the A.N first since its and easy way to get into a writing mood. It build momentum. If you don't like it, I can only suggest that you just scroll past it. I bold it to make it easy to tell where the notes end and the story begins.**

 **Swordalfgun: The Tree project is something Harry has on the backburner, as he's essentially trying to invent a new true magic. As for Panzer, I wrote it into the story on a whim, so I'm still trying to decide what to do with it. The stone plays into it too.**

 **Shikaku Zetsumei (Chapter 16): Ivy isn't really going to show up until year 2. Think of her like Ginny, and important character but not really introduced until CoS.**

 **Shikaku Zetsumei (Chapter 21): Dudley may get a break at the end, but for now he's Harry's personal whipping boy.**

Chapter 22: Into the Woods

Edmund Walters, keeper of the ward stones that controlled the Azkaban Dementors, found himself staring into the cold green orbs that marked the eyes of his kidnapper. After spending his time near soul-sucking demons that might turn on him at the first opportunity, he wasn't scared of much anymore. But for once, he would freely admit that he was scared out of his mind, not by the cold eyes boring into his own, but by the supernatural beings in the room with him.

It was like they were constantly hovering just out of his vision, unseen, yet emitting a palpable bloodlust. They were restrained, for now, but he just knew that with a snap of his fingers the boy in front of him could unleash them on him. And while he couldn't see them, he wasn't in any hurry to discover just _what_ could produce enough bloodlust to rattle him.

His kidnapper certainly knew how to intimidate.

"So I'm to ask you once more, politely, Mr. Walters. Where are the ward stones, and how do I access them?"

"And why should I tell you?" Walters spat back at him weakly. He wasn't cut out for this. He'd been given extensive Occlumency training at the start of his career to keep the location of the stones from falling into the wrong hands, but counter-interrogation of the physical sort just wasn't covered in that, given that those who knew Legilimency also knew that it was much faster and safer. He was a bureaucrat, just sitting in a cushy position to make a salary. He wasn't some Hit-wizard running around fighting dangerous wizards. This was supposed to be a safe position!

His kidnapper leaned back in his chair.

"Tell me, Mr. Walters, are you familiar with the muggle term, 'the Carrot and Stick approach'? It's based on the premise that when trying to persuade someone, you should give them both something good to gain if they cooperate, and something unpleasant should they fail to."

Edmund gave a hesitant nod, seeing the direction this conversation was going.

"Now, I've always subscribed to this approach. So I'm going to lay down two options for you. Option A: you tell me what I want to know. If the information checks out, I will provide you with monetary compensation for your time and continued silence and you can go home a happy man. Option B: you remain stubborn and I'm forced to get unpleasant. Either I violate your mind until I get the information I seek and risk compromising it, or I can just leave you alone with my good friends here, and _they_ can ask you the same questions in a slightly different manner."

At this point, three pairs of arms wrapped themselves in what could almost be described in a sensual manner if not for the circumstances, around Edmund. The proximity of these arms felt more threatening to him than any sort of spell or torture implement could ever hope to accomplish. Perhaps it was the bloodlust, which told him that the second their Master let them off the leash, the owners of these arms were going to take him apart piece by piece, and they would _enjoy_ it.

He couldn't bear to turn around, rendered to the mindset of a child, a mindset telling him that maybe if he just didn't look at them they'd go away.

The warm breath tickling his ear, and the sickly-sweet scent of blood in the air told him that he was failing. So he might as well save himself the trouble, it wasn't as if it was the first time people wanted to know things, although usually it was the state of a prisoner they inquired about. And even if he talked, he doubted his kidnapper would leave any hint that he was involved, so it was better this way.

"Heh heh," he chuckled nervously, "so about the ward stones..."

The boy glanced at a space behind Edmund as an unspoken command, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as the arms retracted and the terrifying feeling retreated a step.

But only a step. He could tell that they were just waiting for an excuse to come at him again. In a small, dark corner of his mind, he had to admit that whoever and whatever they were, they certainly knew their stuff.

"Go on..." his kidnapper prodded.

"The actual ward stones are built into the foundations of Azkaban Prison," he finally admitted. "They're powered by the leylines there, but they're managed by a control staff."

"And where would this staff be?" the boy asked in the tone of one who was not really asking.

"Do I have your word that I can leave after I tell you?"

"Of course. The disappearance of one as prominent as you would lead to unfortunate questions. Questions I don't want to answer."

Edmund considered lying, out of some misplaced loyalty to the Ministry and the forces of good, but as if sensing this feeling one of the hands outside of his vision reapplied itself to his shoulder, making its way up to caressing his cheek. It served as a very persuasive argument for the truth.

With a final gulp, Edmund threw his cards on the table, "The rod is at my estate, contained within a lock-box behind my tapestry of Frederick the Fancy. The wards on the safe are keyed to my wand. You'll need it to open them."

His kidnapper smiled, looked past Edmund at the unseen figures, and nodded once.

Edmund loosed a sigh of relief when he felt the restraints loosen, which quickly turned into a scream of pain when he felt two fangs dig into the side of his neck.

" _Don't worry,_ " a soft, seductive voice whispered in his mind, " _it only hurts for a moment. After that, I understand that it actually feels rather nice._ "

His last image in this life was of a purple cascade of hair drifting before his vision.

He couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful it looked in that moment.

-Break-

Harry walked out of the cellar, with Caster, Assassin, and Rider following in his footsteps. Just like their bloodlust had been palpable earlier, their arousal, Rider's in particular, now filled the air like a dense fog. So much so that he was beginning to fear for his chastity. Only his faith in their professionalism kept him going and not immediately fleeing for the protection granted by Saber.

Perhaps using the three as torture implements in a basement interrogation was not the wisest of ideas. They all did have some pretty significant sadistic streaks in them, after all. He made a note to keep Saber handy for the next day or so.

He rose out of the basement into the wide living room of the Walters' Estate. A smirk rose to his face. The fool hadn't even realized they'd been interrogating him in his own basement. His three darkest Servants certainly knew how to create the appropriate atmosphere.

As they walked in, Sakura looked up from where she had been reading one of her Hogwarts textbooks on the couch. As usual, the moment her eyes met his, she blushed and smiled, a stark contrast to the emotionless mask she showed everyone else, or at least, who weren't members of their odd little family.

"How did it go, Harry?"

"Very well, Sakura. Very well. Shame I couldn't just use Legilimency on him, but with that level of Occlumency he could purposely make himself forget the information before I got to it. Oh well. Got it in the end."

He strolled up to the large tapestry adorning the wall. He indicated towards the tapestry with his head, glancing back towards the couch.

"Saber," he asked his Servant sitting next to Sakura, "would you mind?"

"With pleasure," she grimaced as she cut down the hideous tapestry.

Behind it was a massive and archaic safe. Harry reached into his robes, withdrew the wand he'd taken from the late Mr. Walters, and tapped it against the lock.

A blue light flew from the wand and the rotary dial spun rapidly.

With a final, ominous click, the door of the safe shuddered and creaked open.

Inside was... well it was more a rod than a staff. Harry picked it up and looked it over.

It was about the length of a tennis racquet, was a smooth matte black and was inlaid with a silver metal. Miniscule bands of runes were etched in at equal intervals along the length of the rod. Other than that, it was just a smooth and weighty stick.

He could feel the runes in the rod attempting to draw prana from him, and curious he allowed his magic to power up the runes.

" _Maaaasstter..."_ came a rasping voice in his head. It echoed, as if representing the combined voices of a thousand beings. It took Harry a few minutes of analyzing the bond to realize that, in fact, it did.

"Caster," he called out to his Servant, "can you take a look at these runes?"

"Hmm, interesting," she muttered after a moment, "from my best interpretations, this rod was designed for full control of the Dementors, but also designed for more powerful wizards. From my studies into History of Magic, the wizards had their own version of the Age of the Gods, the Age of the Founders, if you will. All of their great, ancient magic was performed during this period. It seems that each runic band of the rod requires an increasing amount of power, but in exchange grants a greater degree of control over the Dementors. Most modern wizards could only manage the first, which only allows the wielder to give vague compulsions to the creatures. With your level of magic, Master, it acts more like a command seal or familiar bond."

"Well that makes things convenient," Harry muttered. "Assassin, deal with Mr. Walters' body. Make it look like Death Eaters and vampires working in conjunction to steal the rod."

"Yes Master," Assassin replied, "and after that?"

"Torch the place."

-Break-

The Great Hall was respectfully silent as Dumbledore made an unexpected announcement during dinner.

"Now students, we have an unexpected addition to our student body here today. Due to a technical malfunction with the Hogwarts Quill, no letter was sent to this Muggleborn student. We have confirmed, however, that he is a fully fledged young wizard and thus will be joining us at this illustrious school. Please give a warm welcome to Dudley Dursley!"

At Dumbledore's cue, the doors opened and a very fidgety and nervous Dudley was ushered in by his aunt Lily. The boy was in expensive robes, courtesy of his aunt and uncle, but he was so unaccustomed to wearing them that he kept tripping over the hem.

His eyes darted back and forth, taking in the freakishness surrounding him. He was bouncing rapidly between horror and amazement.

On the one hand, this freakishness had driven his dad insane and caused his mother's death. On the other hand, nice Aunt Lily had explained to him that not all magic was bad and that Petunia and Vernon were simply very sick people.

It had helped his confidence slightly to know that he wielded powers that could make him soar above regular people. He was on the way to becoming his old self again. Already, he was getting along with his cousin Orion. The two boys had almost instantly hit it off, becoming fast friends.

He wished he could say the same for his other cousin...

He wasn't quite sure what it was, but something about Harry... scared him. It was as if there was something important he'd forgotten, something dangerous, but every time he tried to remember it his brain hurt. His cousin had nothing but polite when they'd gone back to the Potter Estate, but something about it creeped him out. Then there were those two girls and the maids.

He'd initially thought both of them were really cute, until they'd _smiled_. Somehow those smiles held more malice for him than even his cousin's. Similarly, the maids were very polite right until they'd served him tea. He could have sworn that for just a moment his tea leaves spelled out " _Die_ ".

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to think, he was the center of attention, so he had to make sure he didn't make any mistakes and presented himself proudly. Of course, he had to be Sorted now.

Orion had explained the basics to him: Cool, good people went to Gryffindor, idiots and duffers went to Hufflepuff, nerds went to Ravenclaw, and slimy gits went to Slytherin.

With that breakdown in mind, he concentrated hard on how much he wanted to go to Gryffindor. Orion was in that house, and it seemed to be the most popular one. He _really_ didn't want to go into Slytherin.

That was _Harry's_ house.

With the air of one walking to his execution, he marched slowly up to where the Headmaster was waiting with this tatty old hat. He sat down on the stool, and with a rustle of fabric the hat covered his vision.

 _"Well, well, well. What have we here?"_ a voice spoke in his head.

Internally, Dudley was freaking out, but he did his best to keep himself calm as he replied, "Uhh, Dudley. Err, Dudley Dursley."

 _"Yes, yes. I see..."_

The hat was silent after that to the point where Dudley started to get uncomfortable.

"Uhh, Mr. Hat?" he asked cautiously.

 _"You are not a good person, are you, Dudley?"_ it finally spoke. Dudley recoiled as if struck.

"What kind of question is that?" he yelled at it. His parents had always assured him that he was the best boy in the world!

 _"One that struck a nerve, I gather. I'm going to tell you a little story, Dudley. Do you know that there are light wizards and dark wizards?"_

"Uhh... yes?" He recalled his Aunt telling him something about this.

 _"Good. Well, the light wizards usually win at the end, but the dark wizards are always more powerful. Do you know why that is?"_

Dudley didn't really see where this was going.

"No, why?"

A dark chuckle resounded in his head.

 _"Because the dark wizards know how to make important friends,_ _friends in the right places that help them get what they want_ _."_

" ** _SLYTHERIN!_** "

Meanwhile, Harry vaguely raised his goblet in the direction of the Sorting Hat.

It was good to have allies.

-Break-

Inside his Slytherin dorm, Harry sat in his armchair with Sakura reclining across his lap. He was idly teaching Panzer the information she would need to know if she was to protect him and the girls properly.

After successfully repelling the Dementors and rowing the boat to safety, he figured that she was mature enough to begin training. Being a construct, she didn't technically have a gender, but when he'd explained the concept to her, she'd been strangely adamant at being referred to as a had an inkling that if he asked why, he wouldn't like the answer, so he wisely kept his mouth shut. He was quite sure that opening it would have allowed Zelretch to get some prime teasing material on him, and he would like to avoid that. At least Panzer was determined to protect him to the best of her ability.

At least with this new level of maturity he'd been able to keep her from killing Dudley the second she got within proximity.

He had so many plans for his cousin.

That was why he'd arranged for the Sorting Hat to place Dudley in Slytherin. There were simply far too many amusing things he could do there. A Muggleborn had been thrown in with the snakes. Why, it was practically expected for him to suffer. Not to mention that he had noticed that Orion had been becoming fast friends with the oaf, it would be very amusing to see his brother's reaction to Dudley's Sorting.

Speaking of which, he was expecting someone in several moments. The rumors in Slytherin had been growing increasingly loud over the last several days. It seemed that the Prefect Council had finalized their plans, and were planning to swear the house to him tonight.

Daphne swearing herself to him and her house's immediate ascension not only into the Wizengamot, but into the good graces of Lords Slytherin and Ravenclaw had been the tipping point. He'd finally proved that he could properly provide for those in his service.

A knocking at his door drew him from his thoughts.

He glanced in the direction of Joy, who was standing near the door and nodded to her. The Servants astralized and the other two triplets stood against the wall with their heads bowed, looking every part the meek maids they were dressed as.

Joy opened the door to reveal two cloaked figures, one boy and one girl. After a brief moment, they stepped into the dorm and bowed low to Harry.

They lowered the hoods to show their faces. The first was Gemma Farley and the second was Marcus Flint. Both were senior members of the Slytherin council.

"Apologies for the late hour, but the Council has requested your presence."

Harry smiled.

"Lead the way."

-Break-

In the dark recesses of the Slytherin dungeons, was a room. The artificial windows cast an eerie green light throughout the room, illuminating a round oak table right in its center. Despite the cold, damp, and darkness, the stone fireplace remained unlit.

Seated around the table were ten teenagers. With the two currently out fetching their topic of interest, they composed the Slytherin council. The Council represented the greatest that Slytherin had to offer.

They were not all the most powerful wizards in Slytherin, but that was not all that mattered. More powerful wizards could be bumped off the Council by smarter, more ambitious, or cleverer ones. Only those that embodied the very best of their House, the ambitious _and_ cunning, could sit on the Council. Those who didn't belong were usually quickly replaced by others thanks to the natural selection that occurred in their House. There was a famous saying among Slytherins: "A Council member who is tired of checking his dinner for potions is one who is tired of being a Council member."

Those currently seated at the table were silent as they all stared in the direction of the door, waiting.

There was a certain tightness of everyone's frames. They all understood exactly how crucial it was that their guest accept them. The tension only grew, until finally with a great creak the door swung open. Marcus and Gemma entered and took their places around the table, revealing their new guests.

Harry Potter, Sakura Emiya, Illyasviel von Emiya, and Daphne Greengrass. The more observant of the Council members also noted the three maids that always hovered in their shadows.

At a silent cue, the twelve members of the Council stood, and looked towards Harry, right into his eyes.

He needn't say a word. His dark green eyes alone dictated his requirements.

One fell to her knees and bowed in obedience.

Another followed and swore loyalty to this greater being.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Another.

They all fell to their knees, none wanting to be the last to swear fealty. They all knew that they were looking at something beyond simple power.

They were looking at _majesty_. This was not some simple charisma, like that possessed by Voldemort. For all his charisma, in the end the Dark Lord had proven himself to be little more than a delusional maniac with wishes of grandeur, one who simply hid it better than most.

This was _greatness_.

How could they, simple mortal men and women, ever hope to compare?

-Break-

While Harry finally and fully took control of Slytherin, Dudley was just getting settled into his new house. An older boy had guided him from the Great Hall to the Slytherin dungeons.

The boy had been rather polite, if a bit cold. He'd tried to ask where they were going, but the boy only gave very short replies.

After they'd gotten deep into the basement, he'd been told the password to the door, shown to a dormitory, and left alone.

Maybe these Slytherins just needed some time to get warmed up to him?

He'd have to ask Orion in the morning.

-Break-

Now that Harry had the control rod for the Dementors, he had to move quickly. Once the death of Mr. Walters was discovered, the Ministry would be expecting an imminent raid on Azkaban by the Death Eaters and would increase the defenses accordingly.

For this reason, it was important to act tonight. It was already past midnight when Harry and the girls sat themselves down on a motorized dinghy. Since they'd made it all the way to Azkaban on the last voyage and Panzer had memorized the route, it was unnecessary to kidnap the guides to the prison nor steal their boat.

In the interest of covering their tracks, however, he'd sent Assassin to do both. She was currently rowing alongside them at a truly rapid pace, though one that was still effortless for a Servant of her caliber. Since the Death Eaters wouldn't know where Azkaban was, it was logical for them to take the same route as he and the girls had originally.

A dark silhouette in the fog loomed over them, outlining the massive castle that was Azkaban Prison. The ominous feeling of the Dementors slammed into him like a physical blow right until he gripped the rod and the feeling flew back as the foul beings recognized their new Master. A few even shrieked in what seemed to be their way of expressing joy, given that nobody had had enough power to truly control them for a long time now.

After that, they approached the rocky shores without impediment.

With a soft thud, both boats tapped against the beach. Assassin stepped gracefully out of the wooden boat she'd commandeered, dragging two unconscious guards behind her.

"Now remember," Harry told the girls, "it's important that this is attributed to Death Eaters, so wizard spells only."

Daphne nodded, stepping up to the two guards, as if deciding what to do. After a brief moment of reflection, she hit the first with a bowel-expulsion hex and the second with a simple killing curse.

Harry looked at her for a moment, raising an eyebrow at her use of the bowel-expulsion hex.

Daphne indicated towards the wrist of the first guard.

"Muggleborn. Can tell by the muggle wristwatch. Death Eaters are trained to pick up on that sort of thing."

Harry nodded sagely. This was why he'd taken the girl on. Sometimes there was no match for experience.

"Good job then."

Kicking the body aside and delicately stepping over the entrails, the group navigated the winding and crumbling pathway up to the main castle. Before they could get there, however, they reached a large wooden guard barracks. It would actually look a rather comfortable building, were it not for the location. Harry supposed that if he were stationed on this island, he'd want all the creature comforts he could get.

Regardless, he had a job to do. And to ensure that this attack was attributed to Death Eaters, he had to be more ruthless than usual.

Slowly and stealthily, he circled the building, marking exits. All of the windows he silently cast the unbreakable charm on. The doors, he sealed with the Colloportus spell. Once he'd double checked his work, he returned to the front of the building and nodded to Daphne.

She raised her wand and incanted without remorse, " _Fiendfyre._ "

Fire, in the form of an enormous snake, engulfed the building. Saber looked on in disapproval, but if there was one positive outcome from her attack by the Dementors, it was that it had made her think back on her rule and the things she'd learned from it.

And the one rule in particular that stuck out the most was that the end justified the means. She could not dissuade her Master from this course of action, so she could only do her best to both protect him and minimize damage. Even if it meant doing unpleasant and monstrous things. She was his sworn sword and he was her love. His happiness was her greatest value to pursue.

Meanwhile, Harry was watching Saber from the corner of his eye. Internally, he was glad. Saber had always been the most... moral of his Servants. He was worried that it might cause some problems. If he was reading her correctly, however, she was ever so slowly coming around to his way of thinking.

Knowing that the time was right, he approached her and laid a hand on her delicate shoulder. Leaning in, he planted a light kiss on her lips and whispered in her ear.

" _I know that it pains you to do this. I'm sorry that I'm being so selfish as to force you to sit through this. It warms my heart though that you're willing to do so for me. My Arthuria."_

Slowly, she leaned into his embrace, turning away from the fire and towards him instead.

That was right, so long as Harry was there, it was okay. She remembered what it had been like after his death, and she never wanted to experience that again. She'd do whatever it took to ensure his safety. Despite her hesitance, she spun around to face him from the front, and returned his earlier kiss hungrily.

His arms wrapped around her as she used him to support herself.

The scene would have been terribly romantic in the moonlight, illuminated by the nearby fire, we it not for the knowledge that the building was full of burning prison guards.

-Break-

The maximum security ward of Azkaban shuddered as an immense explosion rocked the halls. The occupants scarcely noticed though. Years upon years of Dementor exposure had rendered all but the most hardened of prisoners completely insane.

Through the smoke strolled Harry Potter, robes blowing behind him in the rush of hot air and circuits still glowing from the overpowered Bombarda spell he'd used to destroy the main wall.

Each cell he passed, he ripped the doors off with Panzer. He stepped inside and checked each prisoner. Those without Dark Marks, he slew quickly. Honestly, with the Dementors about, it was a mercy. Those bearing the mark of Riddle, he stunned and collected. It was crucial to his secrecy that this attack was not attributed to him, so he was going to disguise it as a Death Eater prison break.

At the end of the hall, he found the prisoner he was looking for. The man was emaciated and had a beard longer than Dumbledore, but it was indisputably the man in the mugshot from the file he'd been given.

"Nicolas Flamel, I presume?" Harry joked darkly.

The man chained to the wall looked up for the briefest of moments, but his eyes were vacant. Harry wasn't entirely sure Flamel was even looking at him. Curious, he attempted a Legilimency probe and immediately regretted it. The mind of a madman was not one to go strolling around in.

He didn't have a proper workshop to study in, but the mind and body of a powerful and intelligent magus was not something to be wasted. He still needed to figure out what that stone was, after all.

His mind made up, he stunned the old man and added him to the growing pile of Death Eaters. With a brief mental signal Harry summoned Berserker. The giant materialized out of thin air and glared a hole through pretty much everything in sight.

A flash of his magic had a very large and reinforced tarp laying on the floor of the cell, which the unconscious bodies were quickly piled up on and wrapped in. After that, Berserker casually picked up the tarp like a very bulky hobo sack.

His job done, Harry strolled back out from the massive hole he'd created in the prison wall with Berserker thumping along in his wake.

He was greeted outside by the girls, who were already prepared for the teleport back. He'd been in there for quite a while. By the position of the moon, it was only about four hours until dawn.

"Are we ready to leave, Big Brother?" Illya asked sleepily as she rubbed her eyes.

Chuckling, he walked over and picked her up. Despite their relatively same age, she was still so much smaller than himself and Sakura. Like a small white cat, she immediately curled up against his chest and was quickly asleep.

With one hand supporting his sister, his other hand raised his wand to the sky.

" _Just one more thing_ ," he promised softly. It was time to use one particularly useful bit of magic he'd learned from Riddle.

" _Morsmordre!"_ he hissed at the sky, and from his wand a noxious looking green smoke shot into the sky and mixed with the clouds. Over the course of several seconds, they shaped themselves into a grinning skull with an animated snake curling out from its mouth.

And with that, the Death Eater threat returned to the Wizarding World.

-Break-

A swirl of colors briefly lit up a dark warehouse in Muggle London. It wasn't the most illustrious of workshops, but it was a place no wizard would ever go looking for something. The owner had been hypnotized to forget that he even owned the warehouse. In fact, he forgot about his business altogether and instead went to pursue his ambition of being an artist.

With a loud smack, Berserker dropped his sack of Death Eaters on the hard concrete floor and it quickly unraveled. Under the large fluorescent lights of the warhouse, Harry could more clearly see the faces of those he'd taken. Their time in Azkaban had definitely taken its toll, but he could see the entirety of Riddle's inner circle lying on the floor from Bellatrix Lestrange to Antonin Dolohov.

He manipulated Panzer into a knife, intent on finishing them off when a voice interrupted him.

"Master..." Assassin began hesitantly.

Curious, he paused and turned towards her, both making her more nervous and bolstering her confidence. It was rare for her to intervene like this, so it meant that she had something important to say, therefore he would listen.

"Yes?"

"I-I have some experience changing the... allegiance of prisoners. If you would grant me some time with them, I am sure that I could persuade them to follow you with more zeal than even that heathen Riddle."

After a brief moment, she looked down awkwardly, "It's just-it's just that it would be a shame to waste already broken prisoners."

Harry tilted his head for a moment, considering it.

"So long as you can guarantee their loyalty, you have my leave." As an afterthought he added, "If you can accomplish it within the week, I will be _very_ pleased _._ "

The crusader-like fervor that suddenly appeared in Assassin's eyes make Harry think that both he and the prisoners would regret that statement. Well, especially the prisoners, that is.

" _Now,"_ he overheard her muttering to herself, " _where to find some water, cloths, rope, a bucket, a torch, and a large rat..."_

He pretended he just couldn't hear her.

Looking over, he spotted his latest acquisition. Flamel was still unconscious on the corner of the tarp, but that might not last for long. He looked over and spotted a low hanging support beam. A quick projection had him holding a set of mithril shackles, with which he bound Flamel's arms and legs. The other end of the chains he hung over the support beam, suspending Flamel in midair.

With Caster's help, they arranged a truly impressive array of magical circles around Flamel, all with the express purpose of binding him. With his delirious state, they didn't think he'd be able to escape, but it was always best to be safe. A clever magus could fake something like insanity, after all.

Once the magus was firmly bound, Harry took a step back to look over the bindings, and was rather pleased. The Blue herself couldn't escape these chains.

With Assassin remaining behind to guard the prisoners, the rest teleported back to Hogwarts. His affairs finally sorted for the night, he motioned for Berserker to set the sleeping Illya down on the bed.

Only Illya would employ Berserker's constant aura of madness as a sleep aid.

After a day of prolonged exhaustion, he welcomed sleep that night.

-Break-

On a distant, rocky English shore, a half-drowned rat sluggishly swam to shore and passed out from exhaustion.

-Break-

The next morning at Hogwarts was pure chaos when Dudley arrived for breakfast. A dozen students were standing right in front of the Headmaster's big chair and yelling questions at him. It looked like they were all holding... newspapers?

He looked next to him and saw a boy his age in yellow robes, clutching one of the newspapers.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Didn't ya hear?"

"Uhh..." Dudley shook his head dumbly, "no. I guess."

"Apparently, there was a massive breakout at Azkaban last night. Whole load of Death Eaters got busted out, from Lestrange to Pettigrew. Even left a big Dark Mark floating in the air. Bold as brass, ain't they?"

"Uhh..." Dudley couldn't help but utter again. Who were these people? Azkaban? Was it some sort of prison?

"Oh, right, Muggleborn," the boy muttered at seeing Dudley's confused expression, "Azkaban is the big, inescapable wizard prison. Guarded by soul-sucking monsters and such. Death Eaters were a bunch of killers who got locked up years ago. Apparently, they didn't get all of them, because some showed up last night, burned the guards alive, and blew up the walls."

"So why's everyone all freaked out?"

The boy looked shocked for a moment, before shaking his head. "Cause the Death Eaters were big followers of..." the boy looked left and right to ensure that he wasn't being eavesdropped on, "You-Know-Who. Them busting out, some are taking it as a sign that he's coming back. Dumbledore's been talking about it for years."

Dudley was about to ask more, but Dumbledore raised his wand and shot a cannon blast into the air, silencing the Great Hall.

"Children, please take your seats. I will address your concerns in a moment. For the moment, however, I have a few early morning announcements to make."

A general scraping of chairs and low muttering of conversation filled the air for a moment.

With an air of hesitancy, Dudley made his way over to the Slytherin table. He stood there, unsure of where to sit until with a great sigh one of the older students hissed, " _Sit down, you idiot,_ " and yanked him roughly onto one of the bench's open spots.

"When you don't know where to sit," the boy continued, "just go with it. Don't just stand there gopping and making the house look bad. That's an easy way to get hexed."

"Students," the Headmaster began, "Today I am honored to announce a new member to our faculty. To fill the position vacated by our dear Professor Binns, I have invited Ms. Medea Caster to fill his position. A graduate of Beauxbaton Magical Academy, I am sure that she will be an excellent addition to our illustrious school. So, please give a warm welcome to our new History of Magic Professor!"

The students turned to get a look at their new professor when they heard the doors of the Great Hall creak open. Many of the male students' jaws dropped open at her. Graceful features, a well-endowed body, and pointed ears; she looked like some sort of mythical princess. Caster appreciated the irony.

Right as she passed them, she turned around and gave a calculated nervous smile. It had every teenage boy in the room nearly leaping to their feet to declare their undying love for her.

" _Blimey,_ " one whispered, " _you think she's got Veela blood or something?_ "

" _Maybe,_ " another replied, " _me dad works in the Department of Magical Creatures. Think he said something once about Veelas getting special characteristics or something._ "

" _You mean the ears?_ "

" _Yeah. Think it's just something they get sometimes._ "

" _Whatever she is, I'm suddenly really looking forward to History of Magic._ "

" _Hear hear._ "

Finally, Ms. Caster made it to the teacher's table and sat herself down at an empty seat. Turning, she began introducing herself to the various professors around her.

"Now, I'm afraid, it's time to discuss some bad news," Dumbledore began. "As some of you read in the paper this morning, last night there was a mass breakout from Azkaban. The attack is currently being attributed to Death Eater remnants, and they unfortunately succeeded in their endeavor. Every confirmed Death Eater within the prison was freed. I will assure you, however, that Hogwarts is the safest place in Wizarding England. There is no reason to be afraid here."

This mollified many of the students. Reputation crisis he may be having, but one point that nobody would argue was that Dumbledore had been the one man Voldemort feared. So long as he was Headmaster of the school, it was safe from attack.

That was just another fortunate side effect of Harry framing Death Eaters for his attack on Azkaban. It was important that Dumbledore hold on to his Headmaster position. By making Voldemort seem like a credible threat again, no sane parent nor board member would remove him from the school. Harry wanted Dumbledore destroyed, but this enabled him to throw as much dirt at the old man as he wanted without also inadvertently freeing the man from his responsibilities.

Powerful and arguably wise wizard Dumbledore may be, but trying to balance two government posts and a civilian position was just irresponsible. By keeping the man juggling three positions, Harry could influence all three. If he needed to get something past the Wizengamot, he'd do something that forced Dumbledore to the ICW or Hogwarts. If he needed to do something inside Hogwarts, he'd have Malfoy or one of the newly-made Lord's lackey houses try to push something very dicey past the Wizengamot.

To keep this in balance though, Dumbledore needed to keep his three positions until the time was right.

In order to ensure that Voldemort's shadow still loomed over Wizarding England, he had the Prophet running front-page articles on the Death Eater Threat while subtly highlighting Dumbledore's power to counter it. A direct statement was never made, but the average reader would subconsciously draw the conclusion that Dumbledore remaining in power was necessary to keeping the darkness at bay.

For now.

His biggest concern now was the reaction from the Ministry. Fudge was very much a peace-time Minister. His reelection hedged on there being no credible threat that he would have to deal with, so he would likely do everything in his power to bury the idea of Voldemort's return.

It would be a difficult thing to manage. His best bet would be to have Malfoy pacify the fool. Frequent "donations" ensured that his ally always had the Minister's ear when he wanted it, so a few discrete words into it should keep the Minister from overreacting.

To be safe, however, he was already making plans for either an assassination or vote of no confidence for Fudge. The first would be quick and easy, but suspicious. The second would take quite a while, but if he did it right nobody would even raise an eyebrow. Really, either one would work.

-Break-

By the end of the day, Ms. Caster was the most popular figure at Hogwarts. Every male was fantasizing about how to marry her; every female was fantasizing about how to be her. To every guy, she was mind-boggling sexy. They could scarcely pay attention to the lesson material yet still clamored like starving wolves whenever she posed a question. She was simply so innocent and pure, nervously introducing herself to the class and giving that smile that drew every man's gaze to her.

She was even nice to the Slytherins! And they were nice to her!

It wasn't even the end of first period and the entire student body had concluded that Ms. Caster didn't have a malicious bone in her body.

Well, of course, the entire student body with the exception of Harry, Illya, Daphne, and Sakura. Harry was reminded the hard way.

"Mr. Potter," she said sweetly as she dismissed the class, "could you please remain behind for a moment?"

Harry sent a mental probe towards her, but she only responded with a mischievous smirk. A few students ribbed Harry suggestively at the idea of the hot teacher asking him to stay after class.

Not wanting to raise suspicion, he sent Illya, Sakura, Daphne, and the maids along, telling them not to wait up for him. The door closed and Caster waved her hand towards it. Had he been reinforcing his hearing, he would have heard the unmistakable click of a lock bolting. Instead, he sat himself down in the chair she'd placed in front of her desk.

The second he sat down, a magical circle inscribed on the bottom of the chair lit up and restrained him. He raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't react. He'd seen that smile on her face before, so he had an inkling as to where this was going. She'd been making herself indispensable lately however, so he felt that she'd earned this. Not to mention arranging for a woman famed for her sadism and seduction to become his teacher was just asking for it. He would have to be a fool not to expect her to take advantage of her position like this.

A smirk from Caster let him know that she'd caught onto his line of thinking.

"You know, Master, you're right. Just what were you thinking?" she teased as she circled around him. A single finger slid up and undid the tight bun she was keeping her blue hair in, letting it fall loosely around her shoulders. Another began idly toying with the broach keeping the front of her robe closed.

"Such a naughty boy, you were expecting me to do this, weren't you? I might just have to punish you for having dirty thoughts about your teacher."

Smoothly, she slid herself onto his lap, straddling him. Any ordinary eleven-years old would have trouble with the full weight of a grown woman in their lap, but Harry was hardly normal. The only thing he had trouble with was keeping himself calm and composed when Caster began not so subtly grinding her hips, rubbing her rather delightful bottom against him.

"You know at this rate I'm going to be late for my next class, right?" Harry brought up unperturbed. Caster pouted cutely in response.

"I'll write you a note. I need this right now," she breathed out, leaning in. Her mouth enveloped Harry's and bliss ensued for the both of them.

Harry ended up being twenty minutes late for his next class, but he didn't really care.

-Break-

After classes that day, right as the sun was going down, one of the Slytherin councilmen came to Harry with an intriguing bit of information. Apparently, word on the Devil's Snare was that something was killing off unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, and Hagrid had taken the joint detention Orion and Draco shared to enlist the boys in searching for the culprit.

Smirking, he thanked and dismissed the Slytherin. Looking over towards Sakura, he saw that she was sporting a similar expression to his own. While he hated Orion, Sakura _loathed_ the boy. She viewed him as the reason the one she loved had suffered so much. Not even Rin could muster as much hatred from the purple haired girl as Orion could.

Harry himself found it simultaneously amusing and disturbing. It meant though that she would be willing to participate in that night's entertainment.

The Forbidden Forest was a scary place, after all.

-Break-

This was not shaping up to be a good night, thought Orion as he met Hagrid and _Draco_ at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He wasn't sure what the Groundskeeper had called him out here for, but at least it was better than shoveling manure for Sprout.

He just wished Draco wasn't here. The git had started it with his pompous attitude.

"Hope ya boys got yer boots on," the giant began, "because we're gonna be doing some trekking tonight."

Orion couldn't help but smirk when he saw that Draco was wearing expensive house shoes, the fop.

"Now see here, I'm a wizard of noble pedigree. I can't be expected to perform manual labor like some peasant!" Draco argued hotly.

A chuckle resounded from Hagrid, "That's right. Yer family finally got a Wizengamot seat, didn' it? Well that don't excuse you from detention. If ya didn' want ta do this, you shouldn' ha' gotten into a fight. 'Specially with a housemate."

At this, he shot a reproachful look at Orion. The boy glared back, but didn't say anything. He still didn't see what he'd done wrong, but he also didn't want to earn yet another detention. His mother would kill him.

"Alright, so 'eres the deal. Something in the forest 'as been killin' unicorns for the past few weeks. We're gonna split up to track it. You've been taught to shoot off sparks with yer wands, yeah?"

The two boys nodded begrudgingly.

"Good. One of you boys will be with me, the other with Fang 'ere. Either of us finds a unicorn, we'll shoot sparks and meet up. Sound good?"

"I want Fang," Orion immediately spoke up, eyeing the fearsome looking dog.

"That's fine," Hagrid consented, "but I should warn ya, 'e's a bloody coward."

-Break-

Orion was seriously beginning to regret his decision. They were deep into the forest, searching for dead unicorns. The problem came when what sounded like a twig snapping had Fang bounding off in terror.

"Useless mutt," he muttered to himself. It was probably just a squirrel or something. This forest was full of harmless critters.

He stopped when he stepped in something wet on the ground. It was hard to see in the darkness, so he cast a weak Lumos with his wand. In the dim light, he could make out some silvery liquid on the hard earth. With two fingers he dabbed the substance and lifted it up to the light. It had an incredibly sweet smell, but something subconscious told him that he would regret tasting it.

Then the other smell hit him.

Blood.

He looked around for the source and finally spotted it; a dead unicorn stretched out across a patch of brambles. On its horn was the source of the smell. A viscous red substance that could only be human blood coated the horn, indicating that the animal had gotten at least one good gore in before its demise. Unfortunately, its own silver blood spilled out alongside the blood of its killer, pooling around Orion's feet.

Panicked, he rapidly darted back away from the animal's corpse.

He was in fact so panicked that it took him about fifteen seconds to remember what he was supposed to do once he found a dead unicorn. After a few clumsy fumbles he finally drew his wand and aimed it into the air to shoot off sparks.

Except he couldn't remember the spell.

Merlin, why hadn't he paid more attention in Flitwick's class?

From off to his left, another twig snapped.

That was all it took. Orion leapt to his feet and took off in a physical display that really shouldn't have been possible given his body type. He kept running, and running, and running. Behind him, he kept hearing twigs snapping at an increasing rate. Whatever was chasing him, it was also gaining on him.

He stumbled on a rock and one of his boots came off.

A twisted root entangled his foot, ripping the other boot off and sending him tumbling down a muddy hill. He was coated in mud by the time he reached the bottom, but he didn't care. As quickly as he could, he got back up and kept running in his bare feet.

An ill-attempted leap through a brier bush got his robe caught in it. Initially he tried to disentangle himself, but hearing the twigs snapping once again had him slipping out of the robe entirely and running off in his skivvies. The briers cut him up terribly, but he had so much adrenaline coursing through his veins he didn't even notice.

The twig snaps were really close now. He was certain he could feel the breath of his pursuer on his neck, so he pushed on for as much speed as he could.

Finally, he saw a familiar light and dove for it through a tight thicket of trees. He felt his ankle twist as it got snagged at some point, but he was home free.

Stripped to his underwear, muddy, bleeding, and crying like a scared child, he successfully dove into the small grove Hagrid and Draco were searching.

The sympathetic look on Hagrid's face comforted him, but the delighted sneer on Draco's face let him know that all of Hogwarts would be hearing of this by tomorrow morning.

-Break-

Harry and Sakura had to put up silencing charms to hide their roaring laughter from their places atop Berserker's shoulders. The natural terror the giant emitted combined with Orion's natural cowardice were just a perfect combination for, quite literally as it turned out, scaring the pants off the boy. The only real difficulty had been imparting the idea to the giant that he was not to physically touch Orion, as Berserker had _really_ wanted to kill Harry's brother.

Their fun had, Harry went to check on the interesting opportunity he'd found in the forest. He retraced their steps back through the twisting path Orion had run until they found the dead unicorn. Hopping off his Servant, he approached the creature. The unicorn itself bore little interest to him, but its horn bore liberal amounts of blood from the vessel Riddle was possessing. There were any number of delightful options having someone's blood presented when you were a Magus.

Projecting a set of vials, he used a cleaning charm to gather all the blood inside the containers and corked them.

Caster was going to have a field day with this.


	23. Chapter 23: A Bump in the Night

**Welcome back all! Neolyph here with another chapter of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus! Sorry this one took so long. Hit a roadblock about halfway through that I just could not get past. Ended up rewriting half the chapter just to get around it. Once again, loving the attention this story is getting. Every time I think this story's popularity is hitting a ceiling, you guys go and smash it. I love you all.**

 **Review time!**

 **FuZzvKiNgZz: Ehh, when I started writing that scene, all I could think of was every single "hot teacher" porn I'd ever seen. It just kind of rolled from there.**

 **VentXekart: Harry doesn't quite have the entire loyalty of Slytherin. He has the loyalty of a respected and feared group of Slytherins. Smart Slytherins will follow the lead of the council, but few suspect Harry's involvement in it. Also, not all in Slytherin recognize the authority of the council. As for the other girls, their time is coming.**

 **Generatedname: The issue with Saber is due to my interpretation of Fate/Stay Night. In the course of a single Grail War, Saber undergoes a massive character change due to her relationship with Shirou. In my opinion, this indicated that Saber is susceptible to manipulation via love. She fell for Harry before she truly understood his nature and is attempting to reconcile that with her morals, and her morals are losing. I mostly keep some of the character (cough Orion cough) because this is my first fic and I'm trying to keep with the books. If you read the HP series, most of the characters start out out very 1 dimensional and get fleshed out as the series goes on. Dudley and Draco both start out as whiny fucks before eventually becoming much more complex characters in the later books. For example, Orion is currently getting his ass handed to him, but that's only going to go on for so long before he wises up and starts throwing his own punches back. Canon Harry did get offered Slytherin after all, and Orion isn't that far off. As for the "Sue-vibes", Harry is an exercise in self-restraint. If he fully activates his circuits, he channels power like the fucking Emprah, which is what he was doing during the Slythering meeting. I actually meant to stick that in, but forgot about it. Good to get a legitimate critical response though, and I hope I didn't miss any points.**

 **Mangahero18: It was a bit of a dramatic character shift wasn't it? That's kind of what I was going for. I wanted it to be clear that Harry is by** _ **no**_ **definition a good person, while still keeping him somewhat likeable.**

 **Paxloria: Glad to know you're enjoying the story. Stuff like geass scrolls and the like get brought up a lot for this story, but I don't see that as in character for Harry. Harry in this story enjoys having power over people, but it's all about the finesse to him, not brute force. Just mind-controlling someone had appeal, but manipulating them into unconscious obedience is so much more satisfying.**

 **plums: Harry is focusing on Hogwarts because most of the people on his list are centered there. He already currently has the power to pull whatever strings he likes on the Wizengamot, but I've already explained why he hasn't used that to take Dumbledore out of it. As for the ICW, he's currently eleven. He doesn't have the international pull to mess with Dumbledore's ICW position. He doesn't need to buy up property and the like, as the dark families he's financing are basically doing that for him. Trust me, there will come a moment where the curtain will be pulled back and people will realize that England has been invaded, occupied, and remade in secret.**

 **Heika: They killed the guy because while a dead body does raise questions, planting the correct evidence will also answer the same questions while a bribe leaves openings for mistakes. I'm not particularly religious. Rider was referring to her venom acting as a sedative and aphrodisiac. I never watched Illya's magical girl show, so no. (Spoilers) Pettigrew did not have a dark mark, so he wasn't stored in maximum security. With Harry distracted looking for Flamel, he went into his rat form and booked it out of there. Being a death eater spy, he was counted among the escaped by investigators. Bear in mind, Sirius was coherent enough in Azkaban to recognize Pettigrew's rat form in an old newspaper and plot his escape, so Pettigrew probably was too. Unicorns aren't the same in Potterverse, same with dragons. While they're badass in Nasuverse, unicorns in Potterverse are just magic horses.**

 **xxOblivionxxx: Harry has had the mother of all shitty childhoods, so he wants those responsible to suffer. And he wants a front-row seat when they do, thus Hogwarts. As for the Homunculus, that's what that little baby-looking thing Voldemort is before his resurrection.**

 **Araytigre: Pettigrew didn't make it past the Servants, he just waited for them to leave.**

 **Biblio388: Oh yeah, on a D &D alignment chart, Harry is pretty much checking boxes off for Lawful Evil. I try to make him more likeable by not following the traditional route and making him an angsty cunt.**

Chapter 23: A Bump in the Night

In a dark, abandoned warehouse in a dilapidated section of Muggle London, Harry and Caster were leaning over a workbench. Occupying the center of the warehouse was a large stasis tank filled with a bubbling blue fluid. And in the center of the stasis tank was floating someone, a magus by the name of Nicolas Flamel.

Preservation of materials was an important part of Magecraft Research, after all, and not to mention the security bounded fields placed on and around the tank were generally agreed upon in Magus circles to hold all the stopping power of a well-aimed halfbrick, so there would be no escaping and no intrusions. Even if Flamel was too weak to make any attempt to escape, he was not willing to give the man, a magus, the benefit of the doubt. He wanted answers, and he'd get them one way or another.

After an exhaustive amount of research, Harry had made a few discoveries.

The first was that Flamel was _very_ old, as in only slightly younger than the Ministry of Magic, which was established in the late 1600's. He'd used the Stone, or at least earlier prototypes to slow his aging process, but it couldn't fully halt it until the full Stone had been synthesized.

The second was the nature of the stone. Through a combination of analyzing Flamel's circuits and incorporating Panzer's analysis of the Stone itself, he'd reached a startling discovery.

The Magus' Stone was made of pure, refined human souls.

Materialized.

Flamel was technically a True Magician.

And through purely technical means as well. Once he'd discovered this information, he'd checked to see if Flamel had formed a connection to Akasha but found none, which made the discovery all the more impressive. The man had done it all by himself, and without even becoming a Sorcerer. Had he been able to show his work to the Clock Tower, it would have caused an uproar of epic proportions, given that nobody had ever _conceived_ the idea of managing a True Magic this way. It was a shame that the man's mind had been destroyed by continued Dementor exposure, but _c'est la vie_.

Now he just needed to figure out how a sole magus with no magecraft libraries nor Association resources had managed to stumble across a True Magic, one powerful enough to grant immortality.

He needed a look at Flamel's notes, hence why he and Caster were looking at some... _acquired_ records from the Ministry of Magic, dating back several hundred years. Flamel had changed his name several times over the years, but if you knew what you were looking for it wasn't particularly difficult to trace his various identities. Magus were cautious, yes, but it didn't mean that they were particularly imaginative when it came to setting up new identities. Even if they were thorough in no leaving any traces behind, simple logic was often enough to figure where to search.

Several places stuck out as possible places where a lone magus might set up a covert workshop, from old homes to a muggle office building he'd purchased.

Looking through employment records, he finally discovered something of significance.

Flamel had taken a position as Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts around 1943 under a pseudonym. Presumably, this is where he first came on Dumbledore's radar. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Riddle's memories of the year. It hadn't stuck out because Riddle had viewed Muggle Studies as a completely useless and pathetic class, and thus had attached zero significance to its Professor. It was ironic that in doing so, he had ignored a man who would create a way to cheat death without having to split his soul.

More memories caught his attention, such as Riddle setting a Basilisk on students and causing mass panic.

Except something had confused Tom at the time, that being the _disappearances_ , instead of petrifications. As far as he knew, the Basilisk was not eating them, it had even told him so. Students were instead simply disappearing, although they were all mudbloods so he hadn't really cared at the time since they were still being attributed to the Heir of Slytherin and causing panic. Obviously, Flamel had been clever enough to stay away from the Purebloods and Half-bloods, who if they had disappeared, would have caused the Ministry to investigate the matter more thoroughly.

There was also Riddle's increasing paranoia that something else was in the Chamber of Secrets. Nothing concrete of course, but sometimes things weren't _quite_ as he had remembered leaving them. Nothing ever came of his investigations though, and he figured that the Basilisk would kill anyone who didn't belong so he had dropped it. He had not even bothered to put up wards, just in case, figuring that the Chamber was too well hidden to be found, and that in the event of someone finding it, that the Basilisk would have eaten them.

A series of unrelated and inconsequential incidents to Riddle, but to an outsider with proper perspective and background knowledge the pieces very slowly beginning to show a picture.

It was a well-established tactic for less ethical magi to use events such as natural disasters or the lurking of a serial killer to cover the disappearance of unwilling test subjects. To a struggling magus in need of human materials for his experiments, a series of monster attacks in a school might as well be the grand opening of a magus supply shop.

As for Riddle's paranoia, a place called the Chamber of Secrets did sound like a pretty good place to set up a workshop, particularly for a prideful traditionalist magus.

Although, supposedly the ability to speak Parseltongue was a requirement to enter the Chamber and control the Basilisk within. Not to mention that hypnotizing the Monster would have been impossible, since it would require Flamel to look into the Basilisk's eyes.

Hmmm...

He could take a look a Flamel's body once again. The ability to speak Parseltongue was supposedly a genetic one, so theoretically a magus skilled in medical alchemy or flesh manipulation could modify the language center of their brains to permit the speaking of a magical language so long as they knew what they were looking for and what they were doing.

Dangerous and improbable, but possible. It wasn't even as mad as it sounded, particularly to a magus with several hundred years on his hands. The abduction and dissection of a Parselmouth wasn't even something that would be out of character for the Clock Tower.

There was also the possibility that he had simply learned the language slowly over many years. Theoretically, it was also a physical language that could be learned though exhaustive and extensive study.

Of course, his knowledge of Parseltongue all came from Riddle. He'd never personally done research into it. The possibility also existed that Riddle had been Imperiused and Obliviated to gain access to the Chamber and keep the Basilisk pacified. That had been before Riddle had researched Occlumency enough to develop shields capable of resisting Obliviation.

"Caster," he spoke up, "scan Flamel's brain. I need a look at it."

Nodding, Caster approached a runic panel on the tank and manipulated it until a glowing circle rose from the bottom and scanned Flamel like a Muggle M.R.I machine. Instead of physical readouts, the machine transferred the full results of its testing to the consciousness of Caster, who then sent it through their link directly to Harry.

"Hmmm," Harry hummed as he manipulated the three dimensional model in his mind. It seemed his hunch was correct. The language center of Flamel's brain was slightly resonating magic, indicating both the presence of a magical language and the modification which allowed it too. Flamel must have been very desperate to use the language to undertake such a dangerous procedure on himself, though he might have practiced it on some willing or unwilling participants. Likely the latter. Magi were prudent people, after all.

Regardless, it further confirmed his suspicions. Flamel had access to the Chamber of Secrets during the initial attacks, and a series of disappearances ensued right around the time he stopped aging.

The Stone had been crafted from those disappeared students, likely within the very bowels of Hogwarts. In the Chamber of Secrets.

He'd found his workshop. Or rather, Flamel's.

-Break-

Harry couldn't help but sigh as he followed Riddle's memories of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, which was located in a girl's lavatory. He hoped by the Root that it hadn't been so when Salazar Slytherin had first established it, or his respect for the man would be forever tarnished. No matter how clever it was, there was a limit. He could have just as well used the men's loo to hide it.

"What are you doing in here?" asked a nasally, feminine voice.

Harry and the girls whirled around instinctively to confront the voice and viewed the ghost of a young teenage girl. She was apparently relatively new, as Riddle had no memory of her. Well, technically he did. This was... Myrtle Warren. A rather unpopular girl from Riddle's years that...

Ah, Riddle had killed her with the Basilisk. That explained why she was haunting this bathroom.

Damn, this was going to be irritating. Having a nosy ghost reporting on his movements could ruin his chance to use the Chamber.

Well, unless he went with the Binns option. Ghosts moved on all the time; nobody would miss this one.

"Sakura, could you do me a favor?" he asked, ignoring the ghost. She turned and smiled sweetly at him, catching on to his line of thinking easily.

"Of course, Harry. Whatever could it be?"

"Would you mind killi-"

"STOP IGNORING ME!" the ghost wailed, bursting into tears and retreating down one of the toilets.

Well, Harry supposed that worked too.

Unimpeded, he and the girls advanced to the area that marked the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. There were two primary entrances: the first tunnel used for the Basilisk to get in and out, and the second staircase for human use. The tunnel simply opened with the command to open so that an animalistic Basilisk could use it while the staircase required a password.

" _Open the door to your secrets, Father,"_ he hissed at the seemingly plain wall. With a grinding of ancient gears, the wall slid open to reveal a narrow staircase.

He was several steps down when he realized that Rider wasn't following them. Instead, she was standing stock-still with a shocked expression on her face. She was fidgeting a bit, quite surprising considering her usual unflappable countenance.

"Are you alright, Rider?" he asked, concerned. After a brief moment she touched her hand to her forehead and shook her head rapidly.

"Yes, Master, it's just... hearing you speak like that was... odd. It was like your words resonated in my very being. It was..." she paused for a moment before smiling dazedly, "nice."

This was something for Harry to consider: the effect of Parseltongue on a Gorgon. Rider did bear heavy similarities to a snake after all, and legend had even depicted her as having snakes for hair. She also shared mystic eyes with the Basilisk, another great snake. It was said that speaking in Parseltongue could compel any snake into obedience. He imagined that the effect would be greatly lessened on a Servant like Rider, but it seemed that she wasn't entirely unaffected by it. He'd have to be cautious with its use.

"Interesting," he noted aloud, "we'll have to look into it later." Rider nodded, still dazed, and they continued.

Single-file, the group descended into the Chamber, the door slamming shut behind them and plunging them into darkness.

" _Show me the way, Father,_ " Harry hissed once again and green lanterns sparked to life on both sides of the staircase, bathing the path in an eerie green light.

After several minutes of descent, making their way down to what Harry could only imagine to be the level of the leylines, they finally came out into a large, decorated chamber. It was a long, stone walkway flanked on both sides by rows of ornate snake heads with what looked to be blood spewing from their mouths like a fountain. The fluid didn't smell of blood, but instead of minerals. Perhaps it was some sort of underground reservoir mixing with certain minerals in the ground to produce a red color.

At the very end of the hall was a massive depiction of Salazar Slytherin's head, looking down balefully at all who dared intrude on his Chamber. To the keen eye, faint creases on the statue's mouth indicated the presence of a hidden door. Contained behind it was the Basilisk. He'd have to take a look back there, but only after trying to find alternative routes. He wasn't sure how well he'd be able to control a creature that had apparently been under the influence of both Riddle and Flamel. Killing it might be the safest route for all involved.

Now, if he were an experienced and paranoid magus, where would he put his workshop?

There had to be some other areas to this little underground area, otherwise what would have been the point of making it so ornate? You didn't build something that resembled the entrance to a palace just to house a giant snake. There _had_ to be some other purposes, but the only visible door was the Basilisk's door in Slytherin's face.

"Any of you see anything that resembles a door or entrance?" he asked the girls. Rider, Assassin, and Caster were heavily scrutinizing the walls, but shaking their heads. The maids were doing the same.

" _Time to do this the hard way,_ " Harry thought grimly to himself as he approached the statue of Slytherin. As a precaution, he summoned Berserker and put him on standby. In the event the Basilisk became hostile, it would be a good idea to be prepared to put it down. He recalled the opening phrase from Riddle's memories and intoned it cautiously, " _Speak to me Father, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four._ "

It was worth noting that in Parseltongue, a language rumored to have been invented by Salazar Slytherin himself, the words "Slytherin" and "Father" were interchangeable. This was one of the primary reasons the language was attributed to him, as it was very unlikely to have been coincidence. Really, the speaker's interpretation of it depended on their views on Salazar himself. As his heir, Harry saw Slytherin as an ancestor, and thus referred to him respectfully in a paternal fashion.

This time, there was no scraping of stone or grinding of gears, but a door nonetheless opened silently. Giving a glance back to the girls, Harry advanced towards the doorway cautiously. Well, it wasn't exactly a _doorway_ , it was more a genteel hole in Salazar's mouth that led to a black abyss.

He made it about four steps into the opening when he came face to nose with the Basilisk. Instantly, he dropped back, closed his eyes, and activated Panzer's combat mode, but it was unnecessary as the Basilisk's eyes were shut. As a matter of fact, he could barely even tell that it was alive.

"It's hibernating," Rider deduced, looking in.

"Hibernating?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Rider glanced around the Chamber for a second with a critical eye. "Yes," she said, "it makes sense. A snake of that size and magnitude would need an enormous amount of prey to sustain itself, but there's none available but the occasional rat down here. To compensate, I imagine that it induces a comatose state until a Parselmouth comes down here to wake it up."

Harry hummed to himself.

"Convenient," he finally muttered, stepping past the snake and approaching the back wall. Not needing him anymore, he dismissed Berserker.

He looked back towards the girls and indicated towards the wall. "Assassin," he asked, "could you move through this wall to look for anything on the other side?" Silently, she astralized and glided through the wall. After a brief moment, she came back and nodded her head.

"There's an extensive section on the other side, but I couldn't find an opening mechanism on that side. It must be magically keyed somehow."

Caster stepped up and placed a hand to the wall, sending a pulse of Structural Analysis through it. Her magical prowess made her far more adept at searching for opening methods and potential booby traps. It had been used by a magus as a workshop, after all.

"This entire entrance is coated with so many defensive spells and wards that it makes me doubt Flamel's mental stability during his time at Hogwarts."

"Hmm," Harry thought to himself. "Can you disable them?"

The insulted look Caster shot him made him realize that this was a silly question.

He put his hands up in surrender and apology, "Right, right. I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget. Go ahead and get it open then." Caster huffed in exasperation, but moments after she closed her eyes once again the wall open up a much more discrete entrance to an unlit room.

With a wave of Harry's wand, the various candles and torches littering the room lit up to reveal an enormous study, with bookshelves outlining the walls and several central tables. It was somewhat reminiscent of the Hogwarts Library, but also had elements of a laboratory. Of course, there were also the obvious traces of its use as a Magus Workshop. Several sections of the floor had runes and arrays painted onto them while a row of vials littered a nearby table. They seemed to be filled with blood.

" _Or not_ ," Harry thought as he picked one up. Cautiously, he uncorked one and smelled it. Rather than the metallic scent of blood, this smelled... earthy. He looked up and saw around a corner that there was a small fountain trickling the same substance that filled the pools outside. He structurally analyzed it and was astounded by the results. It seemed that water being mixed with magically-altered chemicals from the leylines had created a profoundly magical fluid. Truly, this fluid was a better conductor of prana than mithril, and stored it even better than Rin's gems had.

Something was... reminiscent about this fluid though. The color of it...

The Magus' Stone.

This fluid shared the exact same color as the Magus' Stone. Even the texture was identical, albeit in a liquid form. Flamel must have thought he struck gold when he first found this Chamber, and it certainly explained why he chose to set up a workshop here.

He _really_ needed a look at Flamel's research notes. They should be in here somewhere...

The only problem was that the number of bookshelves rivaled the Library's, any one of which could be hiding the secret of the Magus' Stone. A quick Tempus spell showed that he would be expected at breakfast in six hours. He could keep himself going, but Sakura and Illya would need their sleep. And they wouldn't sleep without him.

With a sigh, he looked back at the girls. "We don't have enough time to go through all of this tonight. Let's go to bed." A sleepy Illya quickly agreed with his suggestion and leaned against his side in exhaustion. Sometimes Harry forgot that they didn't have the same _advantages_ he had, and in fact required nightly sleep. He smiled and wrapped his arm around Illya before teleporting the entire group back to his dormitory.

He could hardly contain his anticipation as he laid down in bed, feeling the comfortable weight of the girls settling on him. Without doubt, Flamel had been a genius magus, and Harry was positively _dying_ to get a peek at his notes. He himself had somewhat cheated when it came to the acquisition of his True Magics, but Flamel had come across one through purely academic means. He had _earned_ a True Magic. Just to follow the research process behind such a discovery would drive his own work with Alchemy forward by _decades._ Admittedly, it was a somewhat cheap way to advance his research, but he never claimed to possess honor.

The thought of honor and the sleepy shift of Saber next to him brought his thoughts to his most troublesome Servant. The storming of Azkaban had highlighted an underlying issue, and he was... unsure of what he should do regarding her. She had always been the most... incompatible Servant when it came to him, which may be due to both her Class and that she was the only Servant summoned by someone fundamentally different than him. Harry loved Kiritsugu like a father, but he lacked the man's ideals. He had no pretensions of being a Savior.

Berserker had been summoned by Illya, a little girl with a vicious streak a mile wide. The giant's madness was matched only by his loyalty however, so Berserker cared little what orders he was given so long as the right person was giving them. Archer was an anti-hero, summoned by Rin, who was the epitome of a proper Clock Tower Magus: Ruthless, unfeeling, and cold. Archer cared only for his own entertainment, only bearing the slightest hints of any moral code.

Saber though had been summoned by Kiritsugu Emiya, a man defined by his ideals. Had she known his true nature from the beginning, she would likely have opposed Harry, but thanks to the circumstances of their meeting, he had unintentionally made it past her guard and struck at her weakest point.

Her heart.

A lifetime of masquerading as a man and forcing herself to shut out her emotions had left Saber doubting her capabilities to feel love and her heart longing for someone to love it. This continued even after her summoning, right until she had met and fallen for her soon-to-be Master. She fell hopelessly and completely in love, but didn't know how to cope with it. It was a feeling she'd never experienced before, so she acted rashly. She swore loyalty to him, just to be closer.

Then came the problem of discovering his true self. Suddenly her ideals and her heart were clashing violently. Her noble ideals chanted for her to slay him, or at least abandon him while her heart screamed for acceptance. Fortunately for Harry however, while her ideals were old and weary, her heart was young, wild, and untamed. It had seen the weakness presented by Harry, and thrown its full weight behind him. Her heart wanted to be with him, no matter the cost, and was compromising her ideals to do so.

Harry knew that by pushing just the right buttons, he could sway her to his way of thinking irrevocably.

Perhaps it was cold and cruel to think about his love like that, but Harry did love Saber in his own way. He wanted to make the relationship work, and for that to happen he needed them to be on the same mindset.

He didn't need a golden crusader, he needed a black knight.

He'd seen that mindset in Saber before, and knew how to draw it out. She needed to independently reach the conclusion that her ideals and love were incompatible, at which point he would swoop in and assist her in making the decision. On that day, he would truly possess Saber's heart.

Smiling slightly, he reached over and smoothed Saber's hair, drawing a smile of contentedness from the Servant.

He loved Saber, just like all the girls, but for the relationship to work some changes had to be made.

Even if it seemed cruel.

-Break-

As Harry slept, others in Slytherin were waking. They had smelled an opportunity and were going to take it! While Harry had control of the Council, not all in Slytherin recognized its authority, or were even aware of it. Three boys in particular leaned in on the "brutish" end of the Slytherin scale. Theodore Nott, Jugson Ivanoff, and Aiden Bragge were these three boys.

While some in Slytherin had forgotten the resounding beat-down they were given on the first day, the boys themselves certainly hadn't. Ever since then, they'd been seeking opportunities for revenge.

They wanted to go after Harry himself, but he was too well protected by those maids of his. They knew from experience what those things could do in a fight. The next logical conclusion were those two bints he always kept around as hangers-on. Sakura and Illya Emiya. Unfortunately, they didn't work as targets either. They'd kept careful out for openings, but Harry was paranoid or something. The girls never left his side without at least one maid accompanying them.

Then Daphne Greengrass had joined his entourage, but they didn't even _think_ of taking a shot at her. Even as a first year, she had a reputation for brutality when it came to revenge. Rumor had it that the Cruciatus curse was the first spell she'd ever been taught.

Now though, a golden opportunity presented itself.

Dudley Dursley. Harry's precious cousin.

They were obviously close. According to the Devil's Snare, he had even arranged for Dudley's sorting into Slytherin. What reason existed for this other than that Harry desperately wanted his cousin to be in the same house? They were even around the same age too, although Dudley clearly had _no idea_ how to use his wand.

Easy pickings.

He was defenseless, alone, and vulnerable. It was time for a power play. Some of the upper years claimed that the boy was off-limits, but who cared what they thought?

Silently, the boys slipped out of their dorms at the appointed times, meeting in the hallway. As a group, they made their way down to the door marked for Dudley. They easily opened it with a simple Alohomora. Idiot hadn't even warded his door.

They crept up on the enormous sleeping form of Dudley, wands drawn. As the door swung shut, pitching the room into darkness, it illuminated for the briefest moment three wicked grins.

-Break-

The next morning had a sleepy Harry stepping out of his room to see quite the sight. Stuck upside down to the wall across from his door was his cousin Dudley, looking like he'd been worked over by a team of day-laborers with cricket bats. Swollen bruises covered his entire body, teeth littered the ground, and he was completely naked. His body also bore evidence of being heavily hexed. It was like someone had gone through the entire first year hex book and tried them out on Dudley one at a time.

Written on the wall next to Dudley were the words, "Slytherin is for the Pure."

Harry was livid.

It wasn't that he held any love for Dudley, Root no. It was that someone had not only defied his authority but also took such an overt action. Now Dudley would require treatment at the Hospital Wing, and word would get out that Slytherin was still just as elitist as ever. All his work undone by the actions of a single individual or group.

His rage burned, but for the moment it was important to keep his image up.

"What in Merlin's name happened here?" he exclaimed to the assembled first year Slytherins, all of whom were crowding the hallway to check out the opening volley launched by the subversive Slytherins.

He pulled out his wand and unstuck Dudley from the wall, making sure to catch him when he came tumbling down. Turning to his year-mates, he calmly instructed, "Someone keep an eye on him. I'm going to fetch Professor Snape."

One of them nodded, so Harry stood and went in the direction of Snape's office. He was furious, but vengeance would have to wait. For now, it was vital that damage control be carried out, and damage control included acting the part of the concerned cousin of the victim. On his way, he encountered the Illya, Sakura, Daphne, and the maids. After he recounted what happened, he pulled Daphne aside.

" _Call a meeting of the Council. I'd like a word._ " he ordered her. Something about his voice, perhaps the clear murderous intent, seemed to excite Daphne. With the largest smile he'd ever seen her sport, she caressed his cheek before giving it a quick peck.

"Oh, I'll ensure they understand the urgency of this _request_ ," and with that, she spun around and walked off to carry out his mandate.

Minutes later, Harry was knocking on Professor Snape's door. There was some shifting on the other side, before an irritated voice called out, "I swear by everything that is magic, if it's one of you little brats needing help on you Potion's homework, I will make what I do to Longbottom on a daily basis seem like _doting_ compared to what I'll do to you!"

Amused, Harry called out, "It's me, Professor. There's been an incident."

The room was silent for a moment, before Snape's voice replied, "I'll be right out." Several seconds later, a cross-looking Snape opened the door.

"What happened?"

Rather than explain, Harry led the Potions Master through the dorms to where Dudley was still slumped against the wall with the first year who had nodded his head earlier standing guard and keeping the gathered Slytherins back. After a moment to look over his newest pupil, Snape turned and barked to the assembled students, "What are you all gawping at? A house member has been hurt and you're all just standing here like a bunch of bloody Hufflepuffs! Has anyone even gone to fetch Madame Pomfrey?"

Awkwardly, one of the first years shifted and cleared his throat, "But um, sir, he's a... you-know..." before trailing off. Snape just glared and made an eye movement that was the facial equivalent of _daring_ the boy to finish that sentence.

"It doesn't _matter_ who the boy's parents are. You are _Slytherins_ , and that is all what matters. You are not purebloods, half-bloods, or muggleborns. You are all one house now. Do you think the other houses will show you mercy because your parents were wizards? No. They will see that you're a Slytherin, and they will show you no mercy or kindness for it. To the other houses, we are _vermin._ Treacherous snakes to be crushed underfoot by the likes of the Gryffindors. We survive by sticking together. All of us. I don't care what notions your parents have given you about purity, but they stop here. Carry whatever views you like, but they stay in your head. Remember the biggest rule of the house: You back your housemates. Because the other houses won't."

Snape inhaled as he finished, surveying the now chastised group of first years.

"I hope I've made myself clear. Now get to breakfast."

The young Slytherins rapidly cleared the hallway, none wanting to be the last. Snape just sighed and rubbed his temples to clear them of his swiftly growing headache. "Every year," he said, "we get an incident like this. Every year I have to give the same bloody speech."

"Does it ever stick in?" Harry asked, curious.

For a brief moment, Snape's face looked like a Balkan carving of Satan, then it was gone. In its place he grinned wickedly, "Not until an example is made"

-Break-

That night, the members of the Slytherin council were not grinning at all. They were becoming aware that they were confronted with something that terrified them to the core: an angry Harry Potter. The assembled prefects and assorted members sat at the long, shiny and new table in the old meeting room and each one wondered precisely what it was about Harry that made them both respect and fear him.

It wasn't that he was ambitious and cruel. Cruel men were stupid; they all knew how to use cruel men, and they certainly knew how to bend other men's ambitions. You didn't stay a Slytherin council member for long unless you were adept at a kind of mental judo.

It wasn't that he was bloodthirsty, power-hungry or especially wicked. These things were not necessarily drawbacks in a Slytherin. The Slytherins were, on the whole, no more wicked than, say, the committee of the average Rotary Club, and each had risen to the pre-eminence of their position, not so much by skill at magic or seniority, but by never neglecting to capitalize on the weaknesses of opponents.

It wasn't that he was particularly clever. Every Slytherin considered himself a fairly hot property, cleverwise; it went with the job.

It wasn't even that he had lineage. They all knew breeding when they encountered it, and when you looked at Dudley Dursley and Orion Potter, it was clear that Harry had all the breeding behind him of a troll. That was it, in fact . . . he wasn't good or evil or cruel or extreme in any way but one, which was that he had elevated greyness to the status of a fine art and cultivated a mind that was as bleak and pitiless and logical as the slopes of Hell.

And what was so strange was that each of the wizards, who had in the course of their childhood experienced an encounter with a Boggart or a Cruciatus at the hand of an angry parent, had never before had quite the same uncomfortable feeling as they had when, ten minutes late, Harry strode into the room.

"Sorry I'm late," he lied, removing his tie as he walked past the threshold. The council members couldn't help but note that his maids were following behind him and had locked the only door of the room, sealing the exits. The room secured, the took positions at his side menacingly.

With a slow, excruciating pace, he went around the table and sat down at the head chair. Only once he was fully settled did he fully drop the act, leveling a glare around the table that made Snape's shrivel in comparison. "Now," he began, "would anyone care to explain to me why the first directive I gave this council was defied _days_ after I gave it? I said, 'Nobody touches Dudley Dursley without my explicit permission,' and here I find him beaten and unconscious outside my room this very morning."

"It wasn't one of us," Gemma Farley spoke up, attempting to salvage the situation, "We put the word out that your cousin was off-limits. Evidently, someone disobeyed. Given that they did, it was probably a group of first years."

Marcus Flint latched onto this argument, throwing his two-knuts in, "Yeah, we can't be held accountable for the actions of some stupid first years." Similar sentiments sprung up from around the table, until Harry's Panzer-reinforced hand smashed into the table, shaking the heavy oak table.

"Your _purpose_ is to ensure that my will is carried out in Slytherin without directly tying the power to my face. Deniability. But if you cannot be trusted to carry out such a simple task, I will have to _reconsider_ our arrangement."

The council members shrunk back at that. The very day they had sworn the council to him, all of their families had received Gringotts transfers get them out of their Muggle hideouts. Their dues to the Wizengamot had also been paid, restoring their families' seats on it. Unfortunately, the deposits were technically listed as "0% Interest Loans", thus insuring that if they displeased their new Lord, he could call on Gringotts to force repayment and cripple them again.

Harry was pleased to know that his power over the council had not been diminished in the slightest by this incident. "Fortunately," he said, smiling, "I'm a forgiving person. I'll offer you a chance to redeem yourselves..."

The council members were visibly relieved, and frightened at his next words, "Whoever brings me the ones responsible for this will be granted forgiveness. The rest will be used for a little job of mine." At seeing the silent panic overtaking the members of the council, he grinned reassuringly, "Don't worry, you'll survive it. I can't promise that it'll be pleasant though."

-Break-

In the remote warehouse that Harry had appropriated for an improved temporary workshop, Caster was furiously painting magical circles on the wall. She finally had what she needed to kill the vessel taken by the one who had caused her Master so much suffering.

She had the blood of Tom Riddle's vessel.

She had been one-upped and made a fool of repeatedly ever since she came to this world. First she'd had difficulty figuring out what the magus' stone was, overlooking the possibility that it was the work of a proper magus, then she'd failed to account for the aura of a Dementor being non-magical in nature. She was falling behind the other girls! She needed to prove that she was _Caster_ for a reason. Hence the spell. The spell she was cooking up wouldn't just kill Riddle's vessel. It would make it _suffer_.

It just needed to accumulate enough natural prana to charge up.

-Break-

Harry's anger grew by the minute as he sat in the Great Hall the next morning. Most of the damage had been foregone for the first day due to a scarcity of information, but now it had been a full day since the incident and the rumor mill was churning at full tilt. Someone, and the prevailing theory was a Hufflepuff, had sprayed some rather... choice words regarding Slytherin outside the entrance to their common room.

Whoever had assaulted Dudley, Harry wanted their heads. _All_ of his work using Orion to improve Slytherin's image was wasted by the act of a few idiotic first years. Instead of putting Dudley in his place, they had made him into a martyr.

Now, the heavily-muggleborn Hufflepuff was right back to fearing and despising Slytherin as opposed to their previous tentative friendship. Apparently, a lot of them were hanging around the Hospital Wing as a show of support for the still-unconscious Dudley, and some claimed standing guard against further Slytherin treachery. Some of the Gryffindors were using this as an opportunity to escalate the hostilities between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Orion was leading the charge, often quite vocally accusing Harry of being involved in Dudley's attack.

That was the other irritating side effect of this whole ordeal: due to a rising scrutiny over his relationship with Dudley, he was forced to devote the entirety of his free time to sitting by Dudley's bedside. Meanwhile, the recently-unearthed workshop he'd discovered sat untouched in the Chamber of Secrets, holding amazing secrets just out of his reach.

It made him want to tear his hair out.

He was a traditional magus, and having the research behind the discovery of a _True Magic_ sitting in a library that he couldn't access was agony. The only upside was that at least Caster was using this opportunity to tidy up the workshop, politely obliging his request that he be allowed to discover the research notes himself, and Assassin was continuing her "reconditioning" of the Death Eaters recovered from Azkaban.

A gentle hand on his wrist let him know that he'd been irritably rubbing his temples in public. Sakura was giving him a concerned, but sympathetic look. She had never really taken to magecraft with the same fervor he had. Of course, she had paid close attention to Zouken's lessons so that she could assist him when the war came around, but personally she had never taken the magus mindset of obsessively furthering her magecraft research and completely abandoning any pretense of morality or ethics to do so.

Still, she at least understood his pain.

At least he was taking a somewhat perverse amusement in watching the witch-hunt, if you'll forgive the choice of words, currently going on behind the closed doors of Slytherin. It seemed the Council were deathly afraid of the retribution he had planned for whoever didn't bring him those involved in the attack on Dudley, and were using all their connections in the lower years to put the word out trying to get information. Some of the middle year students were getting in on it as well. Though they were unaware of Harry's specific involvement, they were aware of the rapid change in relations between the various houses, and how much damage had been done to that by the one muggleborn in Slytherin being hospitalized. They wanted blood almost as much as Harry.

" _Master,"_ came Rider's oddly urgent voice in his head, " _I believe we have a problem_."

Unaccustomed to hearing such a tone from Rider, Harry had to exercise most of his self-restraint to refrain from snapping up in his seat before replying, " _What is it?_ "

" _The Gryffindor table. Two boys there, twins, I think they can see me,_ " she answered seriously. Harry didn't look in that direction for fear of them noticing him.

" _Are you sure?"_ he asked instead.

After a brief moment, Rider moved a few feet to Harry's right and he dared a glance upwards. Sure enough, the Weasley twins were, in what probably passed for "subtle" in Gryffindor, following Rider's movements with their eyes and occasionally glancing downwards at something they had laid out on the table.

" _Something's not right,"_ Harry told Rider, " _there is virtually no possible way for them to see you like that. It must be what they have on the table..."_

Finally, the solution came to him. " _Try waving at them,"_ he ordered. Rider obliged, exaggeratedly waving her arms in the direction of the twins, but they didn't even blink. Whatever they were using to detect her, they couldn't actually _see_ her, which was an advantage. Regardless, it was a major security issue, one which would need to be immediately addressed.

She had said it was important not to be interrupted during this phase of the conditioning, but it was an emergency. " _Assassin,"_ he called out through his mental link, " _I need you."_ Instantly, her reply came, " _I hear and obey Master,"_ accompanied by a small drain on his prana. Once it was done, he called up the Kaleidoscope and used it to summon her to Hogwarts. Doing it in the Great Hall would draw attention due to the swirl of colors that was the namesake of the Kaleidoscope, so he instead summoned her into an empty broom closet just off the hall.

" _What is your bidding, Master?_ " she asked seconds later, kneeling before him in her astralized form.

Harry replied while subconsciously going through the motions of eating breakfast, " _Over at the Gryffindor table, do you see the two twins there? They're using some sort of magical artifact or spell that's letting them detect Rider somehow. I need you to ascertain its nature._ "

" _It shall be done, Master,_ " Assassin swore obediently, rising and walking through the various tables and students to the Weasleys.

Knowing what was coming, Harry feigned sleepiness and propped his head up with one hand, closing his eyes. The second he did so, Assassin shared her senses with him and he saw through her eyes. She glided up behind the Weasleys, peering over their shoulders.

" _What do you think it is?_ " one of them whispered.

" _I don't know. I've seen ghosts on this thing before, but never_ _these_ _ghosts. I mean, King Arthur, Medusa, Heracles?"_

 _"And they're all clustered around little snakey Potter..."_

Both of them were pouring over a worn out piece of parchment with a detailed map of Hogwarts on it. Dotting the Great Hall were hundreds of footprints with names printed beneath them. Harry was shocked to see that the footprints were moving, and that all of the Servants but Assassin were on it.

It was a self-updating map of Hogwarts that also displayed names and locations of those within it.

Including Servants...

Oh Root this was not good.


	24. Chapter 24: Priorities

**Welcome back everybody! Neolyph is here once again to bring you more of A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus! I apologize greatly for the delay for this chapter. It was a rollercoaster of depression, writer's block, death in the family, and working out a new direction for this story to go.**

 ***Important Notice* Starting this chapter, this story will be changing a bit. I apologize if this makes the story seem a bit schizophrenic and there will be some retconning. I'm new to writing, and I'm starting to realize that certain aspects of this story aren't ready to be fully developed. Essentially, starting this chapter, Harry will be tying up loose ends and eventually pulling out of the Potterverse, and setting up events so that events happen roughly canon up until he pops back in. Once again, I'm sorry if this is a turnoff. Also, there may or may not be a several-year timeskip. Depends on how it goes.**

 **Also, because even I kind of forgot about it, this story does have a discussion forum if anyone's interested. Linked on my profile.**

 **That said, time for reviews!**

 **AnimeA55Kicker: A Servant's magic resistance keeps them from being** _ **harmed**_ **by magic, not undetectable to it.**

 **Generatedname: Harry's limitation is more crippling than you might think. I've somewhat based him off the idea of the Shakespearean idea of the tragic hero, all of whom are crippled with a single fatal flaw. Harry's is a psychological need for brutal vengeance. In his own way, he's just as broken as Sakura, Daphne, Assassin, or any of his other Servants. Because of this, he's physically** _ **incapable**_ **of willingly committing any action that might compromise his little masquerade. It's why what he's about to do this chapter pains him so much. Flamel is an interesting little character to work with. Let's just say that even in his current state, his legacy will come back to haunt Harry. Unfortunately, my greater plans for the Marauder's Map will likely not be realized, at least not for a long time. I was going to have them become an incredible thorn in Harry's side, but upon writing this chapter I realized that I needed to switch gears, part of which will mean an unsatisfying end to the map. I'm going to be time-skipping most likely, so we won't see the development, but there will be some character transformation in the Potterverse. Orion will learn his lesson (will be seen in the next chapter or two) and by the end of it will be on the track to becoming canon-ish Harry. With Hermione largely turned off to Orion, Malfoy will be taking her place in the Golden Trio. This may not sacrifice his role in the canon story though. Saber Alter is something I'm definitely considering. Thanks for the review, and hopefully thanks for reading the whole response. I'm doing my best to improve this story and salvage what parts I can.**

Chapter 24: Priorities

Harry was fairly certain that if he possessed Mystic Eyes, he'd have already killed the Weasleys by now with the force of his gaze. The _imbeciles_ had stumbled into a situation that placed them in a prime position to ruin him; and there was next to nothing he could do about it. Killing them was off the table. It might have flown during Riddle's schooling, but with a more wizened Dumbledore presiding over the school and on the lookout for Riddle, a massive investigation would be launched that might trace back to either him or the map. Even if he was fairly confident in his ability to deal with them without leaving anything that might lead back to him, he wasn't entirely sure Dumbledore wouldn't simply fabricate proof to incriminate him. He wouldn't put it past the old man to do that, especially if he believed Harry was responsible and endangering the students.

Obliviation might work, but it was risky and would be difficult to pull off based on how long those two had used the map. Not only could Obliviation be detected by certain objects like Remembralls, but the more memories associated with the idea you were trying to erase the more difficult it was. If the Weasleys suddenly turned into vegetables, or forgot all their schooling, it _would_ be noticed, there was no question about it. Worse, with their family being one of Dumbledore's key supporters, the old man would be _that_ much more intent on finding the one responsible.

His only real saving grace here was that the twins were curious, not suspicious. They wanted to learn more about these strange names showing up on the map as opposed to running straight to Dumbledore. What he needed to do was keep them occupied long enough to plan around them. Either swipe the map so that they would have no proof of their accusations or convince them that maintaining the secrecy of the information was in their best interests. Though as a Magus, he was tempted to forego the latter on sheer principle. Information shared with others was information you had no control on, and he didn't trust anyone outside of his little family to make good use of such incriminating data.

" _Daphne,_ " he whispered under his breath, not looking in his sworn vassal's direction, " _what can you tell me about the Weasley twins_."

She glanced up from her meal, raising one of her aristocratic eyebrows daintily and smirking.

" _Fred and George Weasley,"_ she drawled exasperatedly, " _let's just say that their disciplinary file is the size of most textbooks. Absolute terrors by reputation and rumored to be the source of roughly half the pranks on Slytherin. Not kids you want to be on the bad side of. Said to be surprisingly cunning for Gryffindors though. Might have even made it as Slytherins if their house wasn't so rooted in Gryffindor._ "

Harry nodded irritably, " _That's what I was afraid of_."

Sakura, who had been listening in on this, chimed in concerned, " _What's wrong? Are the Weasleys up to something?_ " Harry shook his head. Noticing that the twins had looked up from their map once again and were intently studying him, he surreptitiously turned to her and mouthed "later". Catching on, she smiled cheerfully and returned to her meal.

" _Assassin,"_ he ordered as the chiming of the clock announced the end of breakfast, " _shadow the Weasleys. If they make any suspect moves or head in the direction of Dumbledore's office, I want to know. Understand?_ " He could practically _feel_ her disappointment through the bond at not being permitted to kill them, but she replied in the affirmative nonetheless. Harry was content to know that she would never disobey his orders under any circumstance; the Weasleys need not fear an overzealous Assassin slitting their throats in the hallway, or worse sending them off to join her "reconditioning". Though the interest of that particular option was not lost on him.

Fortunately, the Weasleys were off to a different class than he, so he would have a brief respite before they came looking for his Servants again. He could use that time to plan. The second he was in Flitwick's class, he sat down at his desk and zoned out. Given how far ahead he was in his studies, he could allow himself to miss one measly lesson, especially since the girls would be more than happy to share their notes with him.

Closing his eyes to concentrate, he drummed his fingers and began reciting alchemical formulae in his head. It was an exercise Zouken had taught him to clear his mind. Though he was loath to use anything that worm had taught him, he could not deny its effectiveness. It allowed him to concentrate far more than his Occlumency ever could. Too bad wizards relied so much on the Mind Arts to see the interest of combining them with simple meditation exercises, but then again their mentality was really "if it works, there is no need to fix it".

Mentally, he began taking stock of his assets and detriments in his current situation.

On the negative end, two third years were in possession of a magical artifact that allowed them to monitor the names and locations of his Servants. Said third years were Gryffindors of the Weasley family, renowned for their association with Dumbledore. As Gryffindors, they would be inherently suspicious of a Slytherin, especially given recent events with Dudley. They also would have heard Orion's slandering of him, although their acceptance of it was debatable. Regardless, it would throw obstacles in the way of a diplomatic approach. Add to that their prankster nature, and anything they would learn on him would likely be used _against_ him, so he couldn't afford to explain things to them either, not with a guarantee that they wouldn't use it against him.

He sighed at the depressing list. This was going to be harder than he imagined. Granted, far from impossible, just harder than what he had hoped for.

Perhaps he should take stock of his advantages. Primarily, the Weasleys were more interested in investigating his Servants than revealing them. Secondly, they didn't know _what_ his Servants were, instead suspecting that they were ghosts. The twins were a potential match for Slytherins, so in the right circumstances he might be able to appeal to their reason. They also couldn't directly _see_ his Servants, only their location within the school. There was also the fact that Assassin did not appear on the map, most likely a benefit of her A+ Rank Presence Concealment. At least one of his Servants wasn't compromised.

Idly, he wondered if Riddle would show up on that map? Caster was apparently concocting some elaborate blood ritual with the small amount he'd taken from the unicorn, but if he could find Riddle before that it would expedite things.

Regardless, the twins were his primarily concern at the moment. The stone Riddle was after was _long_ gone by this point, so there was little to be concerned about on that front. As a matter of fact, he was technically _wearing_ the stone in the form of Panzer, who by this point could actually hold a conversation. She very rarely spoke, but when she did it was important and often an eclectic mix of hopelessly naive and comfortably ruthless. Somewhat like Illya in that regard, he supposed.

He was losing his focus. The twins.

At the moment, they viewed his Servants as curiosities to be investigated, not threats. He could work with that, exploit their Gryffindorish need to stick their nose in things they had no business with. Perhaps lead them on a merry little chase while he worked out how to wrestle the map away from them without tipping his hand. So long as they didn't understand the significance of what they were seeing, he was safe.

Though, perhaps, deception wasn't the only option here... Molly Weasley _had_ expressed some rather negative views towards his parents. Some of her views might have been passed on to her children, though if Ron was any measuring stick they hadn't. Of course, given that the youngest Weasley boy seemed to have the intellect of a stone and the conservation instincts of a suicidal lemming, it could just be that the boy was stupid.

Still, it was worth a check. And unfortunately he didn't have time to wait for the end of the day to make that check.

Even if this was going to be unpleasant.

He waited until Flitwick was turned around to make his move. The second the short man had moved to add something on the board, he pointed at his face and cast the tooth engorgement hex. Painfully, his teeth expanded until they stuck out of his mouth like a beaver.

"Someone hexed Harry!" shrieked Sakura, playing along with the deception as she started fawning over his injury.

With the reflexes of a practiced duelist, Flitwick whirled around, eyes ablaze with fury.

"Who was it?" he demanded sharply, taking in Harry's injury with a grimace. It was likely that this was one of the first incidents in his teaching career of in-class hexing. Fortunately for Harry, he shared this class with the Hufflepuffs, who were notorious for both defending muggleborns and not squealing on one another. It was in their character to rashly respond to an attack on someone like Dudley, and also not fess up as to who did it; which meant that even if no Hufflepuffs confessed, Flitwick would not believe them.

" _I don't know_ ," Harry said, shrugging. The words came out slightly distorted due to his new oral arrangement, but understandable, " _I didn't see them_."

Flitwick sighed, leveling a livid glare at the assembled students, who were watching the goings-on with a combination of interest and horror. "Go to the medical wing and have Madam Pomfrey give you a potion to fix that."

"Yes sir," Harry acknowledged, rising from his seat and exiting out the door. As he retreated, he heard Flitwick proceed to tear a strip off the entire first year Hufflepuff class. It was regrettable, as most of the Hufflepuffs were good kids, but they also made good scapegoats.

He needed to move fast. Flitwick would be checking in with Pomfrey later to ensure that he arrived there, so he would still have to stop there once he was done. Layering his invisibility and presence concealment on himself, he made a rapid beeline for Dumbledore's office. Arriving at the gargoyle door, he just started cycling through wizard candies until it opened. The Sorting Hat had informed him of Dumbledore's penchant for rotating the password for his office through various wizard candies. The primary flaw of this, was that due to the small size of the wizarding world there were only two dozen or so exclusively wizard candies. It didn't take long to go through all of them.

His attuned magus senses allowed him to physically _feel_ the old man's wards lock onto him.

" _Panzer, would you mind activating prana dampeners?_ " he asked his armor. There was no response from the taciturn armor, but sure enough he was quickly wrapped in a magic-absorbing barrier. It prevented him from disturbing the ambient prana that most of the wards used as a detector, allowing him to bypass the majority of them.

His mental link with Archer had already informed him that Dumbledore was out dealing with Wizengamot business, so he casually opened the door and strolled into the empty office.

"Bit early for a visit to the Headmaster, isn't it?" came a throaty voice from off to the side. Harry turned and grinned at the Sorting Hat, sitting on a shelf by Dumbledore's desk.

"Well, I have to make an active investment in my education, don't I?" he joked back.

It was somewhat hard to tell due to the burlap nature of that hat's face, but he was sure it was grinning as it perked up and got down to business with a, "So, what can ol' Sorty do for you?"

"I'm here about our agreement," Harry explained, "I need information about two students."

The hat rose its equivalent of an eyebrow, "Really?" it asked, "Surprised you actually need to resort to that level. Which kids? No. Wait. Let me guess... Parkinson? No, Malfoy! Wait, wait. It's Longbottom, right? I know that h-"

"Weasley," Harry interrupted the hat's rapid guessing, "the twins, to be exact."

"Oh _them_ ," said the hat with a knowing voice, "I could fill a book with the stuff in their heads. 'Course, it's been years since they actually wore me. Might be outdated information. You try Legilimency yet?"

Harry grimaced. "It's risky. Right now, they're in a position to compromise everything I've built here so far, only they don't know it yet. Given that they spend the majority of the time irritating the Headmaster or breaking into the restricted section of the library in search of prank books, they might have picked up Occlumency. It's unlikely, but if they do have and pick up on the probe, they might just run to Dumbledore."

The hat raised its brim, it's equivalent of raising an eyebrow Harry supposed, "This is quite a significant amount of effort to go through just to minimize a negligible risk. From the looks of your face, you hexed yourself just to get out of class and sneak up here."

"I don't think you quite appreciate how precarious my current position here," Harry explained tersely, "These twins have the potential to bring my entire operation down on my head. The second Dumbledore catches wind of something strange going on in the school related to me, he's going to start pulling the thread until my entire plot unravels."

"And besides," Harry glared at the hat, "I don't take risks."

The hat chuckled darkly, "Yes, I suppose you really don't leave things to chance. Have you ever considered that your life would be much easier if you just dropped the charade and were direct?"

"You've been in my head," shot back Harry, "You tell me."

Although it didn't respond to this challenge, Harry and the Sorting Hat both knew the answer to that question. So long as he still had air in his lungs, Harry would not let this grudge go, nor would he let a single ounce of his enjoyment of it be stolen from him. He was a bored prodigy granted the powers of a demigod and a harem of women who could quite feasibly exterminate all life on the planet. It was well within his power to wipe Wizarding England off the map and have his revenge that way, but he would never do so.

Because it wasn't about power, it was about control.

It was about making his enemies dance to his tune without them ever realizing the strings he was using to make them do so. It was about becoming the very architect of their reality and then making it collapse around them. It was about seeing their faces as the great monuments to their accomplishments were toppled and their very lives lay in ashes.

It was all for the moment where they would look up and, in their last breaths, realize that it was him.

Harry was a sadist of the highest form. Mere physical pain nor mental domination were simply not enough for him. It had to be deep, it had to be personal. They had to feel every twist of the knife yet still not realize who was twisting it, nor that there was even a knife in them. All of which explained why Harry's personal nightmare was a situation in which this was ruined for him. It wasn't just pleasure for him; it wasn't just revenge.

It was a _need_ , as real as a fish's need for water or a wolf's need for prey. Harry was just as broken as everyone else he associated with, he was just better at putting on a smile.

This was why the hat both respected and pitied him though. By any rational mind, Harry was a wild beast that should be shackled or destroyed for the good of all, and as someone who had delved into the far reaches of the boy's mind, the hat knew better than anyone just how dangerous the boy was should he let himself go. What had stayed the hat's hand was something else, hidden far into the boy's soul.

Love.

Despite everything the boy had been through, deep down, something was keeping him from simply turning on humanity as a whole, who had left him to the tender mercies of the likes of the Durleys or Zouken. It was that unquenchable love, hidden and atrophied though it was, that was the reason Harry was limiting his revenge to those who had wronged him directly.

That was what had separated Harry from Tom Riddle. In his orphanage, Riddle had no friends or anyone that cared about him to kindle the dying embers of humanity in his blackened heart, and so it had consumed him entirely.

Harry meanwhile had Sakura the entire time he was undergoing his transition into something dark and terrible, and although she had her own demons, the two kept one another anchored. He truly dreaded the fate of the world if a single hair on her head was harmed by anyone with magic in them. It would not be pretty.

With a snort, the hat finally gave up and abandoned its impromptu staring match with Harry, "So what do you want to know about the Weasleys?" Harry grinned back at the hat, pleased to have won.

"What are they likely to do with the information they have, and how can I convince them to give it up?" he asked succinctly.

The hat hummed and mumbled for several moments before finally formulating a reply, "The two of them look at everything through the eyes of rambunctious children. Don't try to manipulate them, as if they catch even a whiff of it they'll turn on you. Your best bet is probably coming out with most of the truth, and then buying their silence by offering something... entertaining. Prank opportunities are a good, and they'll likely have a good impression of you from their mother. Just don't let them in on your... darker ambitions, they're in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin pretty much solely to a pretty well-defined moral compass."

Harry was about to reply when Panzer's soft voice spoke up in his mind, " _Master, time._ "

He swore. Madame Pomfrey might get suspicious if there was too large a time discrepancy between his departure from class and his arrival at the hospital wing. Already, he was pushing it with his intended claim of having gotten lost, so he needed to move fast.

With a prayer that the Weasleys weren't currently watching the map, he thanked the hat and Kaleidoscoped to a closet just outside the infirmary. A quick touch of his aching teeth confirmed that they were still hexed, so he knocked on the door softly. Several seconds passed, before the stern face of Madame Pomfrey appeared in the doorway, and with a disapproving cluck she ushered him inside and set him up in a bed while she prepared the counter potion.

She knew better than to ask questions. When pranks were played on Slytherins, very rarely were professors ever involved. Either the victim was pranked by their own housemates as retribution for stepping out of line, and thus wanted to keep quiet, or they were pranked by another house and wanted to get revenge in person.

Instead, she just fixed him up and told him to take a nap. The potion to counter the tooth engorgement hex had a side effect of causing drowsiness, so sending him back to class would be fruitless.

Looking to the left at the adjacent bed, Harry couldn't help but laugh at seeing its occupant: a still-comatose Dudley. Irritated as he was with the situation, at least that was something positive. He had intended to use this time to slip out and get some side projects done, but several days of sleep deprivation combined with the sedative effects of the potion quickly put any notions of that out of his mind and he drifted off the sleep.

-Break-

It was perfect timing.

This was the moment Orion had been waiting for.

Many thought that he'd forgotten the insults his "brother" had thrown at him, but not Orion. He still remembered the constant humiliations he'd faced when that git had first arrived. Before Harry, his life had been _perfect._ Then everything had changed; suddenly his parents were angry at him, he was being humiliated in the press, and among his peers he was an outcast. No matter what _anyone_ said, he _knew_ the one responsible for his fall from grace was Harry. It was just too convenient that the moment he was reunited with his "brother", strange things had started to happen to him.

No more.

He'd worked out how to get back into the good graces of his house. His cousin Dudley got beaten up in the middle of the night, and the entire Gryffindor house was looking to get back at them for it. Whoever was first to throw a punch was going to be the big man in Gryffindor for a while, and Orion was going to be that man.

The best part, since many in Gryffindor viewed the attack on Dudley as proof that the Slytherins' recent rise in reputation was unearned, it wouldn't even matter _which_ Slytherin they got back.

"It's a bad day to be wearing green," he sneered to Ron, Dean, and Thomas as they lay in wait in one of the first floor corridors, and he was rewarded with some cruel chuckles. Word was that Slytherins often took this corridor as a shortcut when they were running late, which meant that whoever came through it would be both alone and not paying attention to their surroundings in their haste. It was a pretty clever place to get some revenge in, if he did say so himself.

The sound of rapid footsteps coming down the hallway silenced the quartet. As sneakily as four first-year Gryffindors can be, they stacked up around a corner, out of sight form the corridor the steps were coming from. Dean put his mirror around the corner just long enough to confirm that the person coming down the hall, a girl by the brief flash he got, was wearing green. Turning to the other boys, Dean gave a nod and pulled out his wand, quickly joined by the other three.

Once the footsteps were close enough to be heard clearly, they made their move.

Fucking snake didn't even know what hit her.

She screamed and flailed as she was hit with everything from stinging hexes to tripping jinxes. A solid fifteen seconds of casting later, the boys turned and ran away, wanting to make sure that it was not noted that they were late for class. It wouldn't do for a teacher to get suspicious of their absence once this got out.

They were halfway to History of Magic when Orion realized that he hadn't even see who they'd just assaulted. In his haste to do as much damage in as short an amount of time as possible, none of them had actually paid attention to their victim.

Personally, his hope was Pansy Parkinson, that Slytherin whore Draco was always bragging about being engaged to. Face like a horse she had, though it probably looked significantly more bruised after they'd gotten through with her. Turning, he high-fived Ron, Dean, and Thomas. They'd gotten their house's revenge, and would be lauded as heroes for it.

All according to plan.

Looking at his sleeve, he plucked a stray purple strand of hair from it before dashing into the lovely Professor Caster's class.

-Break-

Harry knew that something was wrong when he awoke to Assassin shaking him. Considering one of her favorite hobbies was watching him sleep, a practice she still continued to this day he might add, she would never awaken him unless it was an emergency.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled, still groggy from the effects of the potion.

"Sakura was attacked, Master," she answered with what he identified as murderous intent in her eyes. Like a switch was flipped he snapped up in bed and flung the curtain surrounding it back. Assassin astralized the second she saw what he was doing, and took up a post at his shoulder. She knew that when her God has _those_ eyes, someone was going to die, messily and slowly.

On a cot across the room lay Sakura, flanked on both sides by Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore. They'd been having a quiet conversation, but paused when the curtain was flung back. Looking at the cot, Harry's rage overwhelmed his Occlumency like a malevolent hurricane. Answering his call for blood, his circuits unconsciously activated, flooding his body with prana and creating a noticeable temperature change in the room.

Sakura was a pitiful sight. Her entire face was a mass of bruises from stinging hexes, and what teeth hadn't been knocked out had been engorged to painful proportions. It looked like her entire set of teeth would have to be painfully regrown. Blood welled from her left temple, where it seemed she had been tripped and her head collided with the floor; possible concussion as well. Her breathing was harsh and jagged, indicating at least bruised, possibly broken ribs. Small nicks and cuts dotted her extremities from minor slashing hexes. Her once prized purple hair had evidently been the victim of a scalping hex, as it had been brutally shorn off straight up the middle.

The worst though... the worst was her _eyes_.

They had returned to the soulless, purple pits of emptiness and despair that they been before he had met her. The eyes she'd borne when she was nothing but an empty shell ready to be used up and discarded by her grandfather.

They were the eyes that he'd sworn he would never see again. Ashamed, he turned away.

Overall, she almost looked worse than Dudley in the bed next to her.

With an enormous slam, the doors of the hospital wing flew open to reveal Leanna, Monica, and Joy, who had taken up a tight defensive position around Daphne and Illya. The second they spotted Sakura, the made a beeline for her.

"Now hold on ladies-" began Dumbledore as he stuck an arm out to keep them back, before Joy grabbed it and twisted it painfully behind his back as she pushed him face-first into a wall.

"You don't get to _speak,_ " she hissed at him dangerously.

Madame Pomfrey looked on the verge of interfering, but a warning look from Monica convinced her to just let it go and continue healing Sakura. Illya instantly took Sakura's free hand, rubbing it soothingly and whispering comfort in the sobbing Sakura's ear.

Harry couldn't bring himself to move. How could this have happened? Who could have done this?

He didn't know, but he would find out. The immediate priority however was Sakura. Jerking himself back into movement, he stumbled over to her bed and took up her other hand, rubbing his thumb across its back in an attempt to comfort her. With his other hand, he emulated what he used to do when she was upset at Zouken's and began combing her hair with his fingers. The choppy cut it had been given made this tricky, but he managed.

"Who was it?" he asked once she'd calmed down a bit from his presence.

" _Gryffindors,_ " she choked out between sobs.

That was all Harry needed to hear.

-Break-

Orion, Ron, Dean, and Thomas were living the high life. Once word had gotten around Gryffindor that they'd put a Slytherin in the hospital wing as retaliation for Dudley, they were set up as heroes.

Sitting around the common, they once again regaled their rapt audience of how they'd encountered one of the slimy Slytherins as she was regaling three passing "friends" about how she had bullied a bunch of Hufflepuffs earlier and how she thought that it was about time someone put that uppity mudblood in his place. When they had politely interjected as to how rude the Slytherins were being, the snakes had drawn wands.

Being the brave Gryffindors that they were, they drew wands in return. Seeing Orion's master dueling stance taught by Dumbledore himself, three snakes fled in terror. The fourth stood her ground, sneering arrogantly.

"I'm telling _Snape_ that you attacked me," she had sneered.

"It doesn't matter," Orion had responded heroically, "the truth will circulate and your lies will never carry."

Then a duel had commenced between the five, with the Slytherin flinging dark spells, no doubt invented by the Dark Lord himself, at the four innocent Gryffindors. Fortunately, the power of light was on their side and they had managed to turn the tables against the Slytherin and her underhanded fighting.

They had only stopped when it was clear that their opponent had been subdued, upon which they had left to fetch an adult to ensure that the Slytherin's wounds were treated properly. Apparently however, some other Slytherins encountered her first and sent into the hospital wing, sowing some rubbish about an "assault".

The truth would prevail however.

-Break-

Two hours later, Harry's room closely resembled the wake of a natural disaster. The furniture lay in pieces, the bed in halves, and the mirror in dust. It was taking every particle of his self-control to avoid decimating House Gryffindor. As angry as he was, he knew that he couldn't hold an entire group responsible for the actions of a few, no matter how much his anger clouded his judgment. It didn't mean that he would be nice, however. Sakura was his _family_ , and she had been attacked out of the blue, simply by prejudice. So yes, decimating the House of the Lions was very much tempting right now.

And when he said "decimating", he meant it in the Roman sense, where they would line up underperforming soldiers and force nine to watch as the tenth was brutally tortured and killed. Sometimes, the other nine would also be killed as an example to other legions.

It seemed an ample job for Assassin, who had been hovering at his shoulder ever since the attack, eagerly awaiting the order.

Restraint was the word of the day, however. Despite every instinct telling him to kill, he was holding himself back. Part of it was Sakura, who had tearfully begged him to at least leave them alive. Sometimes she was too sweet for her own good. Cowardly ambushed while she was alone, hexed dozens of times, and then her attackers had fled before she could even get her wand out.

Despicable. Disgusting. Cowardly.

His mind went to a dark place as he thought of the other reason he had not marched down to Gryffindor and started slaughtering students from the first years on upwards.

It would interfere with his plans.

As much as he hated himself for thinking it, as much as he hated the idea of putting himself over Sakura, he had to acknowledge that this would be an irrevocable act. Hastily committed, it would well and truly cause the little house of cards he had built to crumble.

And he hated himself for it.

Never did he wish that he could change his nature as much as he did then, but it would be an act of self-denial to fail to admit that he _needed_ to see his revenge carried out.

This contradiction of needs and desires, the conflict of his higher love for Sakura and baser lust for vengeance had externalized through action. Caster at least had the presence of mind to put a seclusion bounded field around his room before he had extended a whip from Panzer and rendered his dorm room to its current state.

Allowing his heavy breathing to die down, Harry collapsed into a conjured chair provided by Caster. Typically, he would have used the one provided with the room, but it was currently embedded six inches into one of the walls.

"Master?" asked Rider as she slid on to the spacious seat next to him, putting a comforting arm around him.

"I don't think we can stay here," Harry sighed. Both Caster and Rider raised eyebrows. They both knew well how much Harry's revenge meant to him, along with how much Sakura and Illya wanted the relative normalcy that Hogwarts would provide them with. It was not a decision he would reach lightly.

Finally, Caster posed the glaring question, "Why?"

Harry looked up, and his expression was _miserable_ , "I can handle the attack on Dudley. It's a simple matter of having the council take care of an internal affair."

Caster nodded, all told it was not a severe blow. Dudley was more of a side project than anything else, something they hadn't planned for but could easily _be_ planned for. At the very worst, if it came down to it, the obese boy could be disposed of easily. A single mention of a mistake using a spell and some hypnosis to the right people, and nobody would look any further. So the matter wasn't all that important.

"I can handle the drop in Slytherin's reputation," he continued, "Irritating as it would be, I could schmooze with some other houses, Hufflepuff probably, and maybe teach them some spells until Slytherin was back in good standing."

Rider stroked his hair with one hand, literally _feeling_ his anger and frustration through their mental bond.

Harry sighed once again.

"Root, I can even handle the bloody _Weasleys_ having a magical map that you show up on. I could likely persuade them into silence, and failing that simply steal it so that even if they went to the Headmaster they would have no proof. Given their reputation, Dumbledore would in all probability dismiss it as a poorly-attempted prank."

"But Sakura presents a different problem," Caster deduced. Harry nodded once more, his knuckles gone white. With one soft hand, she took one of his and began massaging it until he loosened the tightened tendons.

"I understand," she comforted, "You can't compromise your own vengeance by taking proper revenge on the Gryffindors, but at the same time you have to acknowledge that the world of Wizards is simply too hostile and threatening for you to keep both Sakura and Illya protected. Your maids can only do so much."

Unable to muster further words, Harry dropped his head miserably.

Despite her inclination towards stoicism, even Rider couldn't refrain from adding her own piece:

"They have a _basilisk_ in their basement, one which had actually been _used before_ to kill students. The administration has failed to discover or even acknowledge its existence, deflecting the casualties to a nonsensical explanation of magical arachnids with dissimilar means of attack. Should another speaker of my tongue have set the beast loose and it were to encounter either Sakura or Illya, not even your maids would be able to save them from its gaze. I should know."

At the end, she self-consciously adjusted her blindfold. She loved the glasses Harry had given her, but when astralized she typically reverted to her blindfold out of habit.

"Not to mention that an ancient and homicidal magus had infiltrated the school, at the same time I might add, and added his own tally to the disappearances of students," Saber tacked on, astralizing into the room, her regal face twisting to show disgust at the school's negligence. Notwithstanding was that Flamel reminded her far too much of Merlin, which just left a bad taste in her mouth. At least Merlin, for all his mischievousness, wasn't _evil_ , he simply had a rather twisted sense of humor and a tendency to humor himself using people, which at most involved humiliation. Not the best person, but still better than someone willing to use human children as fuel for his experiments.

"Perhaps..." Harry began, the words dragging themselves out of him with great reluctance, "Perhaps it's time for a step back, from the Wizarding world, I mean."

Saber was genuinely surprised, "A withdrawal? To where?"

"The Clock Tower," Harry answered through gritted teeth, "Much as it pains me to admit it, perhaps I was a bit... _hasty_ when it came to carrying out my vengeance, overextended myself."

"Perhaps a bit," Caster agreed.

"Overestimated myself," he admitted at the end, "thought I could account for all the variables, keep all the balls in the air."

He chuckled to himself bitterly, "Forgot I was standing under a ceiling fan."

Saber smiled sympathetically, joining the others in placing a hand on his shoulder.

"That is a mature decision Master, to admit fault is an important aspect of a ruler."

" _One I often lacked_ ," she thought to herself silently.

Harry shook his head violently, "I should be doing more than admitting fault," he snapped, "I should be _doing_ something about it. But I can't, because I can't let go of this hatred, this burning fire that keeps me going. Sakura is suffering at this very moment, for my pettiness."

"Don't trivialize you past Master," warned Saber, "or by doing so you trivialize the man we fell in love with. I have sworn myself to you, Master, in body and mind. To dismiss your past as immaterial is an insult our love. When we fell for you, Master, we fell for _all_ of you."

Slumping in exhaustion, Harry let out another sigh of defeat. Angst was simply not in his nature. He could worry and fret about himself all he wanted, but he would eventually feel obligated to action. Mistakes had been made, but that didn't mean he couldn't take steps to remedy this error. As he'd admitted earlier, perhaps his ill-conceived run at the Wizarding world had been hasty. It wasn't a matter of threat, but he simply lacked the experience to properly manage all potential variables, and until he could do that effectively he simply could not risk Sakura and Illya.

The Servants, they could handle themselves. In a physical fight, even Assassin, the theoretically weakest of his Servants, could wipe Wizarding England off the map. Sakura however was just an above-average magus with a peculiar element, and Illya had lost much of her former power when the modifications to her had been undone. Prepared, they could deal with adult wizards easily, but unprepared they were at too much risk, especially given the potential of Wizardry magic for destruction. How those idiots couldn't see that _any_ spell taught in first year could be used for murder was beyond him, but he was willing to bet it had something to do with Dumbledore having faith in his students to act responsibly. A very misplaced faith, of course.

"We have to go back to the Clock Tower," he sighed out, "it's home ground."

Saber, Rider, and Caster all nodded at the tactical sense of his words.

"Indeed," agreed Rider, "it is difficult to protect you from a position where even being perceived endangers your plans. The Clock Tower would provide an environment wherein our presence and the gravity of our nature would be easily recognized and accepted." Harry couldn't help but snort. Only in his life was the Clock Tower considered a safer environment than Hogwarts.

Then, a horrifying thought occurred to him. "Oh sweet Akasha..." he muttered.

He still had to finish his apprenticeship with Zelretch. When he'd left for Hogwarts, they'd made an agreement to put his education in the Kaleidoscope on hold until summer break at minimum. To this day, he was still the barest of novices when it came to manipulating the Second True Magic. All he could really do was move himself and inanimate objects between this universe and his home one, in addition to using it as a more sophisticated version of Apparition.

Now, he'd have to continue Zelretch's twisted ideas of "tutelage".

Caster snatched the thought from his head, and a truly wicked grin stretched across her face. "Before we get to any of that," she reminded him, "we need to plan our withdrawal from this world."

"Quite so..." Harry agreed, he gaze trailing to the ceiling in thought as he subconsciously leaned back into the embrace of Rider and Caster. He missed Saber's put out expression in his contemplation.

The chiming of the clock marked the time Madam Pomfrey retired for the night, so Harry tabled his thoughts for another time. He had to make recompense to Sakura.

-Break-

The hospital wing was quiet, even as a swirl of colors announced the arrival of one Harry Potter. The nurse had long retired by this point, having dosed her patients with enough potions to get them through the night. Leanna, Monica, and Joy were still standing vigilant around her bed, and bristled at his arrival before recognizing it as him. They obediently stepped aside to provide him and Sakura some privacy, although they only strayed just far enough.

Harry had already had a discussion with them as to why they had not been protecting Sakura during her attack, and was at least somewhat mollified by their response. Professor Flitwick had apparently held her behind after class to ask her privately if she'd seen who'd hexed Harry, and so she'd sent Illya, Daphne, and the maids on without her. Since there had not yet been a single incident of animosity against Sakura this year, the three homunculi had felt comfortable leaving her to her own devices for a class period.

It seemed they were still beating themselves up over their perceived failure, despite having received absolution from both Harry and Sakura, if the paranoia they were exhibiting was any indication.

To them, they had a single purpose for existence: serving Harry. For them to fail in their task of protecting Sakura was a major blow to their sense of worth and self-esteem.

Letting them indulge in their paranoia for a while was a small price to pay if it meant bringing them back to their former selves, as opposed to these automatons. Even getting more than a "Yes, Master," or "No, Master," was difficult at this point.

For a long time, he sat in the chair next to Sakura's bedside, simply watching her fitful sleep. He preferred it this way, he couldn't see her eyes, those hollow orbs that seemed to scream his failures at him. Those eyes haunted him, more so than anything done to him by the Dursleys or Zouken. Those eyes told him that Sakura, the human incarnation of kindness, sweetness, and devotion had placed her faith in him.

And he had failed her.

Her face was still swelled somewhat from now fading bruises, and the hair regrowth potion she'd been given had not quite run its course. Her teeth had at least been given proper care, along with the various cuts she'd been given.

He couldn't bring himself to look at the full medical chart at the foot of the bed, the full list of his failures. Every single notation on that parchment was a sin on his back.

A soft hand squeezed his own, bringing attention to the fact that he'd unconsciously held her hand, like they had done back in Zouken's pit. Against his screaming instincts, he turned his head to look into her eyes.

They were the same alluring violet ovals he'd fallen in love with.

Words were not exchanged between the two. They were not needed.

They sat there until dawn, holding one another, content in the knowledge of the other's presence.


	25. Rewrite Chapter 1: Start of Darkness

**Right, welcome back everybody. As most of you who read the AN last chapter know, I've been doing some serious thinking about this story. I sat down and mapped out everything I could do with what I had written, and let me tell you it wasn't pretty. I got lazy writing some pretty important parts of the story, and it's screwed me over big time. In lieu of trying to plow forward with that trainwreck, I'm going to take what I feel is the safer approach and do a fresh rewrite.**

 **To be completely honest, I couldn't find _any_ motivation to continue the story in its current state. It was just too cringe-worthy in my opinion. Too many stupid cliches and too much poor writing. My Harry was a godlike Mary Sue. I think the real turning point came when I had to keep re-reading chapters because even _I_ had forgotten some of the stuff I pulled out of my ass to justify shit.**

 **I think I have grown a lot as a writer since I first started this story, and I'd like to give this story a fresh start.**

 **Thus, this marks chapter 1 of the rewrite. I'll not apologize if this makes you angry. I don't like how my story is, so I'm fixing it. A lot of the plot will change, Harry's godlike Sue'ness will be toned down. He's still powerful, but within reason.**

 **Also, sorry for the wait on this one. I both wrote a first chapter of _another_ story and lost all my progress on this chapter right at the end and had to redo it.**

 **That said, welcome to A Broken Wizard and a Broken Magus... Reborn!**

Chapter 1: Start of Darkness

Kischur Zelretch von Schweinorg sat in the study of his Clock Tower rooms, penning his memoirs. His mind was only half dedicated to his work, as the other half was occupied with solving a conundrum he'd recently uncovered.

Mastery of the Kaleidoscope granted more than the ability to travel between parallel dimensions—it was the operation of parallel dimensions. When he fully applied it, he could learn every pertinent detail about any reality he desired. It granted a certain degree of omniscience.

This was a great and powerful ability, but it came at a cost. He had once been a young and promising magus that searched for Akasha like all the others. His chosen field of study was uncovering the nature of reality. With his talent, he surpassed his peers by leaps and bounds until with one final experiment he found it. Unfortunately, attempting to fully understand the twisting nature of the omniverse shattered his mind.

As such, rather than use his power over all possible realities to improve them or further his former research into Akasha, he mostly used it for his own amusement.

Of course, he did hold _some_ measure of responsibility towards his home dimension. When Crimson Moon Brunestud had attempted to destroy the earth by crashing the moon into it, he had called upon the power of the multiverse to defeat the threat, but the strain had severely crippled his ability to use the Kaleidoscope to its true potential. Even when he became a Dead Apostle Ancestor however, he didn't let it alter his pro-humanity stance.

When the Holy Grail War was first being established, he'd assisted the three founding families in creating both the system and the rules. It was this very ritual that was now causing him headaches.

If the information he'd gleaned from the Kaleidoscope was to be believed—and he had little reason to doubt it—the Einzberns had attempted to cheat at some point during the Third War. Their endeavors had _somehow_ caused the Holy Grail to be infected with the _Zoroastrian god of evil_ , of all things. He shook his head, wondering what madness caused the Einzberns to let an evil deity possess their precious Grail.

Then again, perhaps he should not be throwing stones when it came to madness.

Now with the Fourth War coming to a close, the situation was just being exacerbated. Kiritsugu Emiya, the famous Magus Killer, was going to uncover the Grail's corruption and would attempt to destroy it. He would be unsuccessful, of course, and the Matou would pick up the pieces for use in the next war.

Without intervention, the Fifth Grail War would bring an end to humanity. In most universes, what kept this from happening was the intervention of one Shirou Emiya—the adopted son of the Magus Killer. The boy would, through any number of means, bring about both a permanent end for the war and the destruction of Angra Mainyu. Zelretch's frustration stemmed from his universe having no such figure.

Direct interference would do no good, unfortunately. In his weakened state, he could not afford to go toe-to-toe with a god—and it was not his style in the first place. He was always more of a passive observer. If he was forced to step in and sort this war out, he would not do so directly; he would find someone to do it for him.

Slumping down at his desk, he closed his eyes and opened up the channel to to the omniverse. Infinite realities flashed before his eyes, but he narrowed his search to find what he sought. He needed someone young enough to be easily inserted into the war—preferably someone with magical ability as well. Of course, Zelretch was not a heartless individual, so he also expanded his search to include those orphaned and suffering abuse; he didn't was to take a child from a loving family.

A Grail War was no easy thing to win either, he thought; with that in mind, he added the fields of cunning, intelligence, and magical power.

Due to the nature of the omniverse, even with these qualifiers the number of candidates were still theoretically infinite. Faced with such a monumental decision—a decision that may very well decide the fate of his entire world—he handled it with all of the wisdom and maturity expected of one in his position.

" _Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,_ " he hummed as he put one hand over his eyes. At the end, his finger rested on the visual representation of one particular universe, and a boy living in it; a universe of witches and wizards, and a boy nobody thought would ever amount to anything.

Chuckling, the Wizard Marshall donned his coat and vanished in a flash of colors.

* * *

Six-year old Harry Potter sniffled as he tried to wipe away the blood from his nose. For the second time this week, his uncle had beat him and thrown him out of the house. He still didn't know why all of this had started. Before two years ago, his aunt and uncle had absolutely doted on him, throwing him a massive party for his fourth birthday. His little cousin Dudley had just been born a few weeks ago, and Aunt Petunia had let him hold the infant.

Being a newborn, Dudley had thrown up all over Harry. That was when the _strangeness_ , as Uncle Vernon had screamed to him, happened. He'd been disgusted by the baby's vomit, and after carefully handing Dudley back to Aunt Petunia, they went upstairs to change his shirt so he could get back to his party.

Except, he hadn't needed to change shirts. As they reached his bedroom, he felt this twisting sensation in his stomach, almost making him sick himself, and when he looked down his cousin's vomit was gone. Aunt Petunia had just stood there, staring at him with wide and horrified eyes. She screamed for Uncle Vernon, and when he came upstairs to learn what all the fuss was about, Aunt Petunia whispered something in his ear.

Uncle Vernon's face went white, then green, before finally deciding on purple. He stomped downstairs, loudly and violently declaring that the party was over and shouting for everyone to leave his house.

Once the house was empty, Vernon had whirled on Harry and dragged him by the collar of his shirt down the stairs. After a moment of consideration, he shoved Harry in the cupboard under the stairs and placed a chair in front of the door to keep it shut. Harry had pounded on the door to no avail, before slumping against the wall, weeping.

As he lay in the darkness with the dust and the spiders, he could hear Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia loudly arguing. He didn't understand much of what they were talking about, but he heard some.

" _We were promised, Pet, that this boy would have absolutely no freakishness about him! None! That was why they wanted to pawn him off to us! Didn't want a normal boy raised among freaks! We took him in on that merit and treated him like a son, and this is how he repays us? By betraying that trust and letting his freakishness loose? I won't have it Pet, I won't have it!_ "

" _Vernon, dear, it's not like we can just give the boy back. The old man, Dumbledore, said that my sister and her husband were going to hiding. Something about some evil freak. If they're hiding themselves from their fellow freaks, we certainly won't be able to find them. No, our only hope is that they'll come for him when he turns eleven. That's when Lily got her letter from that school. If we hold onto him until then, we can send him back to his kind._ "

Harry heard his uncle let loose a snarl of frustration and he heard what sounded like a fist hitting a table.

" _I'll go along with this, Pet, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm going to make that freak regret forcing his way into our lives and betraying our trust. I'll beat the freakishness out of him if I have to._ "

" _I've no qualms about that dear. None at all._ "

It was another day before Uncle Vernon had opened the door of the cupboard, but that was only to let Harry use the bathroom.

"Don't want some freak stinking up my house with his mess," his uncle had muttered. When Harry tried to ask what was going on, his uncle had just hit him and shoved him into the bathroom.

This pretty much set the tone for the next two years. He had virtually no communication with his aunt or uncle. If he talked, he was hit. If he cried, he was hit. If he tried to get more food than the scraps his uncle tossed him, he was hit. Once he was "fed" and let use the bathroom, he was locked in the cupboard once again.

The only notable diversions from this routine were when he had an incident of "freakishness". Those were never fun. They were what had Harry in his current situation. Uncle Vernon had tossed him a scrap of toast, but Harry had been so hungry that he felt that dreaded twisting sensation—the next thing he knew he was holding an entire loaf's worth of toast. His uncle immediately noticed it, and the usual routine commenced. His belt came off, and the metal caught Harry in the nose. He fell to his knees, eyes watering. His vision could gone hazy, but he could make out his uncle's purple face screaming at him.

He definitely felt something break when his uncle's foot caught him right in the ribs. Fortunately, they were already miraculously healed from when this had happened a few days ago.

"OUT!" his uncle roared, and Harry's breathing was cut off as his uncle snatched the back of his collar and started dragging him towards the door—voluntarily or involuntarily choking him. Harry went limp, knowing that there was no fighting it. Sleeping on the floor of the cupboard was bad, but at least it was warm and dry. Any incident of freakishness had him locked in the garden shed for a few days.

When the door of the shed shut and Harry heard the snap of the padlock, he started doing his best to treat his wounds. His nose and ribs definitely felt broken, but that was alright. As the one saving grace of his freakishness, whenever he went to sleep whatever injuries he had were usually healed in the morning. What really scared him was that his bouts of freakishness were becoming alarmingly more frequent. He wasn't sure how much longer his uncle would tolerate it before doing something... drastic.

"You're entirely right, you know," came a voice behind him. Harry scrambled against the wall of the shed and tried to make out the person standing on the opposite end. It was very dark, but he could just make out the silhouette of a tall man. He considered calling for his uncle, but he wasn't sure if his uncle would hear him—or care.

"W-what?" Harry asked, terrified.

"You're right," the voice replied, "On both counts. Your incidents of accidental magic are increasing in frequency. At the rate you're going, I project your death at the hands of your uncle inside about a month."

Harry gasped. He hadn't said that out loud. Was this man reading his mind? He saw a magician on the telly once that could read minds, but Uncle Vernon had turned it off as soon as he saw it. Still, it was worth a question.

"Are you a magician?" he asked, still scared—but also excited at the prospect. From nowhere, a bright light illuminated the interior of the shed. The man stepped forward, and in the light Harry could see the man's red eyes and gleeful smile. The suspicion started welling up in Harry that this man was slightly... barmy as Aunt Petunia would likely put it, or 'a bloody nutter,' as Uncle Vernon almost certainly would.

"Why yes," the man announced with the tone of the only one understanding a joke, "Yes I am. I'm the best magician ever—famous for it, in fact."

The man knelt down in front of Harry to get on eye-level with him.

"So tell me, Harry Potter, how would you like to become a magician too?"

* * *

The Wizard Marshall returned to his apartments with a happy little skip in his step. The boy he'd... borrowed fit all of the criteria he'd been seeking—a tad naive, but the boy _was_ six. He laid his new charge on a worktable and used a bout of Structural Analysis to check the boy's health and magic.

One stipulation he'd placed on his search of the Kaleidoscope was that the target's magic be compatible with that of magi. Bearing that in mind, he examined the wizarding approximation of magical circuits. From what he could gather, rather than having numerous magical circuits distributed throughout their body that generated prana on use, wizards had a single massive magical core, which had a pre-existing reserve prana that recharged passively. As such, wizards had better endurance while magi had access to more power at once.

Of course, the stipulation of only a single magical outlet severely hindered a wizard's ability to practice their magic without the use of a mystic code. They seemed to compensate for this by crafting amplification mystic codes from the remains of inherently-magical phantasmal beasts like dragons or phoenixes.

Now, getting such materials would be a problem in a universe where the average phantasmal beast was either extinct or godlike in power. Not to mention, young Harry's magical system would have to pass for magecraft. The obvious solution to this was to modify the boy's core and stretch it out into a circuit system.

After all, he _was_ the _Wizard_ Marshall. How hard could it be?

* * *

Six hours and four instances of cardiac arrest later, Harry's magical core had been converted into a network of exactly one hundred high-quality magical circuits. Upon consideration, another cunning plan worked its way into the condensed frivolity that was Zelretch's brain.

It had been _so_ long since he'd last had an apprentice. Ever since the last one had been eaten by a shoggoth, Lorelei had put her foot down and told him that she wasn't sending any more promising magi to be used as interdimensional cannon fodder. Zelretch had sighed, and accepted that. On the surface, at least.

His eyes glanced down to the boy on his impromptu operating table. He _was_ already outsourcing; what was the harm in testing a little theory he'd been working out? It was related to the effects of a True Magic on a magical crest. The purpose of any crest was to both transfer magical energy in the form of circuits and pre-made spells devised by the wielders of the crest.

But would True Magic work on a crest?

Only one way to find out, Zelretch decided.

* * *

A _greatly_ pained Zelretch wheezed as he sunk down into a chair. A fair number of his magical circuits had been disabled by the fight with Crimson Moon, but that didn't necessarily mean that they wouldn't work for anyone else.

That thought in mind, he'd excruciatingly carved out twenty-five inert circuits and formed them into a family crest. He refrained from infusing them with the Kaleidoscope, however. If anyone took a look at the crest in its current form, it would just appear to be a formation of circuits; but with a True Magic in them, his charge would fall under much greater scrutiny.

For the moment, he decided that he'd done as much as he could for the boy. He'd briefed Harry on his upcoming downturn in living accommodations, and promised that there would come a day where all would be well.

After two years of abuse at the hands of the Dursleys, Harry was still eager for the opportunity. Zelretch wished he could have explained in detail the trials the boy would face, but he knew that it was a poor decision and that the boy's mind wouldn't change.

It was too late to intervene in the Fourth War, and doing so wouldn't matter. The dominoes that would spark the Fifth War had already fallen, so all Zelretch could do was go down the line and stick in his own piece.

" _Good luck_ ," he whispered as he laid a hand on Harry's face and utilized the Kaleidoscope to send him on his way.

* * *

Fire.

Harry's world was fire, and blood, and smoke.

Fire.

He was engulfed in a fire so large that the very word lost its meaning. On bare feet, he wandered through the blaze in a complete daze.

With unfocused and smoke-filled eyes he watched the suffering surrounding him: a mother clutched her children as a house collapsed on them, a teenager desperately tried to pull his brother free from some beams only to be consumed as a gas main detonated the street, a boy around Harry's age clutched the blackened stump of his mother's hand as the life faded from her eyes.

Despite it all, Harry realized that he felt nothing for these people. No pity, no sadness, no pain.

Nothing.

The thought didn't even scare him, the thought of feeling nothing.

The last thing Harry saw was a trenchcoat-wearing man stumbling through the inferno much as Harry himself was. He was about to call out to the man when he heard a creaking and the house above him collapsed right on top of him.

* * *

Zouken Matou strode through the smoldering ruins of Fuyuki City without a care in the world. Since that pathetic excuse for a magus Emiya had destroyed that Grail, he was forced to scavenge the ashes for the pieces of it.

As he approached the center of the city, he felt pulses of prana emanating from the pile of burnt scrap that was once a building. He couldn't believe his luck as he sent his familiars to search the wreckage. When instead of shattered pieces of the Grail, his familiars instead fed him images of an unconscious boy, Zouken couldn't help but be surprised.

Out of curiosity, he had his worms clear the debris away so that he could make a closer inspection. A pulse of Structural Analysis revealed that this boy had one hundred and twenty-five magical circuits of startling quality. For a first-generation magus, this was unprecedented, but that was the only possible explanation for this boy.

The impressive array of circuits had never been activated, so he'd received no training in magecraft thus far, and were he part of a family they would have already begun transferring the crest to him. Instead, this boy was a blank slate.

He was just about to command his familiars to devour the boy and assimilate his energy when a particularly devious thought wormed its way into his head.

Kariya had failed in his role as a Master due to inexperience and weakness. Zouken's current plan was to use have his newest acquisition, Sakura, marry his grandson Shinji and rebuild the Makiri clan. Of course, this brought about the problem that Shinji was worthless as both a magus and a person. Any future built on Shinji's blood would be forever tainted.

This boy before him presented an opportunity that was unlikely to occur again. Before him was the key to both winning the next Grail War and revitalizing the Makiri line.

Yes, it seemed that young Sakura's marriage prospects had just radically altered.

Now the boy just needed to be trained.

* * *

Pain.

Sakura's world was pain, and screaming, and worms.

Pain.

For the last three days she'd lain in this pit, being devoured inside and out by her new grandfather's worms. Her body and mind had been wholly violated in ways the five year old didn't even know possible. She'd been screaming for so long it was no longer even a conscious action.

The pain never ended. Even after three days of exposure the pain didn't dull. Every erratic pulse brought a new wave of fresh, unfamiliar pain throughout her body. It was as if the worms were entertaining themselves by devising new ways to inflict pain on her and shatter her mind.

She barely even twitched when she heard the clack of her grandfather's cane descending the steps towards the worm pit.

Perhaps before all of this, the sound might have inspired hope of a reprieve, but not anymore. She was broken. Instead, she just laid there dully while the sound drifted closer.

"You've done well, granddaughter, more than I expected than of you," came her grandfather's rasping voice, "As congratulations, I bring both good news and a surprise."

Over the chittering of the worms, she heard the heavy thump of something meaty being dropped on the stone floor next to her grandfather.

"I've brought you a playmate, dear. Isn't that wonderful?" he sneered. With a lazy shove of his foot, the boy fell into the pit next to her and the worms dove into him with glee. He screamed and writhed in pain as the worms ate their way inside him.

Zouken looked on in obvious sadistic delight at seeing his familiars at work, "Also, the good news is that once you're both accustomed to the worms, your 'lessons' with them will be reduced to weekly. Instead, young Harry here will take your place every night."

The tapping of the cane began departing back up the stairs.

"Do sleep well," Zouken tossed over his shoulder as he departed, barely audible over Harry's cries of agony.

With her grandfather's departure, Sakura glanced over to the newcomer in the pit. Their eyes met at the same time, and she watched as he seemed to, through a concentrated effort, stop screaming.

Green eyes met purple, and a single hand grasped Sakura's.

She stopped screaming as well.

* * *

Twelve years later, two lovers lay in post-coital bliss.

A gasping Sakura shifted herself further into Harry's arms as he trailed his fingers through her beautiful violet hair. He was breathing heavily as well—a result of their fifth round that day.

An interesting fact of Zouken's crest worms was that they had almost inverse effects on men and women. In men like Harry, they fed on various parts of the body and produced prana in return. Since Kariya had needed to be taken from an untrained magus to a master ready for the Grail War in a matter of months, Zouken had more or less let his worms have their way with him. With Harry, however, Zouken was taking his time to avoid unnecessary damage.

Harry glanced down ruefully to his emaciated leg as he thought of this.

Despite Zouken's 'restraint', the worms had severed most of the nerves in his right leg, rendering it little more than useless flesh. The leg was atrophied, and Harry doubted that he'd regain usage of it even if he could remove the worms and heal it. The other sacrifice had been his left eye as the worms ate the set of nerves connecting it to his brain. He'd had to steal some research on gemcraft from the Tohsaka's in order to craft a replacement.

From a roughly round emerald, he'd modified it to both resemble his functioning eye, and enchanted it with the same rituals that enabled a magus to see through the eyes of their familiars, along with a few other minor tweaks.

What took careful management was his prana capacity. Whenever his body was deprived of the prana that the worms liked to bask in, they grew agitated and would start nibbling on him. If left deprived, their attacks would grow more malicious and start doing irreparable damage.

In a woman, like Sakura, the worms had something of the opposite effect. Sakura's worms were mostly passive as they slowly accumulated prana. When her body had enough prana in it to incite the worms, they would release a powerful aphrodisiac into her bloodstream. It had caused her great... distress around the time she'd turned thirteen, so Harry had taken it upon himself to... reprieve her.

' _Although,'_ Harry thought as he traced her naked form with his unoccupied hand and she let out a satisfied purr, ' _it's not exactly a great sacrifice...'_

Thus, they performed their little ritual at least once a week. Sakura would transfer her accumulated prana into him through this tantric ritual, and Harry would store the transferred prana into his worms to both satisfy them and tap into later should he need it.

Through this cooperation, both kept their worms pacified and constrained.

Of course, Harry thought as he finally caught his breath, sometimes the aphrodisiac took quite a while to wear off. He was reminded of this when Sakura slid back on top and smothered his lips with her own.

Harry was glad to reciprocate.

* * *

After another two rounds, Sakura let Harry off. Weekends like today were some of the only times Harry could get some sleep free of school or the worms he'd have to face tonight. Thus, with his final climax, she'd given him one final long, passionate kiss and asked him to get some rest before tonight. He'd happily obliged as his head plopped onto the pillow almost instantly.

She smiled, looking down at him, before catching herself guiltily.

She didn't deserve to be happy, especially not about this. With a sigh, she slid out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom, where she drew herself a hot bath.

As she soaked in the steaming water, her guilt flooded her once again.

Sakura Matou loved Harry. It was a fact she'd known since he first took her hand in the pit. Through her shattered mind, a single beacon of light had shone in the form of Harry. Ever since that day, he'd become the focal point of her life. As far as she was concerned, the sun only rose in the morning and set at night because of Harry.

Once their grandfather removed them from the pit after two straight weeks, she'd done everything she could to show her gratitude.

When she first started going through puberty, the worms started... _reacting_ to her. At first, she'd tried to ignore it—to put it off, but eventually it had become too much for her to bear. Her body cried for Harry, but she couldn't bring herself to beg him for _that._ She feared letting him know just how filthy a person she was on the inside, unable to control her own urges. So, instead, she'd gone to Shinji, who had gladly obliged by ripping off her skirt and forcing her onto the bed.

She had screamed in surprise and apparently alerted Harry, because the next thing she knew Shinji was on the floor and Harry was raining blows on him. Once Shinji lost consciousness, Harry brought Sakura to one of the empty bedrooms, sat her down, and demanded an explanation.

Unable to contain herself, she had broken down crying and begged him to take her.

It sickened her to think that it had been the most wonderful night of her entire life. She had forced Harry to lay with a dirty, defiled thing like her and was _happy_ about it. Her only consolation was that he derived at least _some_ pleasure from it. He was certainly affectionate, and she tried to repay him by doing her best to please and pleasure him.

Worthless as it was, her body was really the only thing she could offer him apart from her love.

Two fingers slipped inside her unbidden at the thought of him, and she suppressed a moan. She didn't want to wake him before he'd have to return to the pit.

* * *

Later that night, Harry was brought back from his blissful unconsciousness by the telltale clacking of Zouken's approach. He suppressed a grimace as his sitting up agitated the worms of the pit. Looking up, he saw Zouken standing at the edge of the pit with Sakura next to him.

"Rise and shine, my boy," Zouken chimed with false cheer, "Today is a special day!"

The words brought a shudder to Harry. There was only one thing that could get Zouken this excited.

The Grail War.

He knew that it had been close by, of course. The old man had recently purchased the unique reagents for a summoning circle, and had doubled down on Harry and Sakura's lessons. Still, the knowledge that his end of the bargain with the decrepit worm was coming up did not put him at ease.

"Today marks the culmination of your last twelve years of training, my boy. Aren't you excited?"

"Of course, grandfather," Harry replied amicably. The way he saw it, the more civil he was with the worm, the less suspicion he would be under when Harry finally slipped a knife in those bony little ribs.

"Delightful," Zouken sneered, "The reagents for the summoning are in the workshop, along with a modified incantation for the summoning. I trust you won't _disappoint_ me?"

Harry smiled once again, "Of course not, grandfather."

Without another word, Zouken nodded and departed out of the basement.

Once the old man was gone, Harry limped through the worms to the staircase that allowed exit from the pit. He stopped at the stairs, and retrieved his cane from the hook it typically resided on during his 'rest'.

The cane itself was an unadorned thing, a simple matte black stick with a silver handle. Of course, Harry had deliberately designed it to be unimposing. The interior of the stick was where the real power lay. It was hollow, and its entirety had been painstakingly inscribed with the most powerful amplification runes Harry could get his hands on. In themselves, the runes increased the power of any magecraft he enacted using the cane as a mystic code by several orders of magnitude.

Additionally, the handle could be pulled from the cane in a pinch, which doubled as the handle for a dagger made from the same emerald as his eye. He was too crippled to make much use of the dagger in a straight up fight, but he'd been steadily filling both it and the crest worms with as much prana as he safely could over the years, often supplementing it with the prana given to him by Sakura during their _rituals_.

As much as he hated to admit it, the crest worms _were_ very effective magical crests. They not only functioned as artificial magic circuits, but they also served the same function as Tohsaka jewels in storing prana. Twelve years worth of power had built up quite the prana battery in the worms.

Still, the benefits weren't worth the toll they took on his body.

Regardless, with his cane in hand he limped up the stairs and joined Sakura to get started with the summoning.

* * *

In an empty room of the Matou basement that Harry had converted into his workshop, he and Sakura had just finished drawing out the ornate summoning circle. Sitting on Harry's desk was a note with a modified summoning incantation. Without knowing the original, Harry couldn't tell what the purposes of the changes were for.

After checking the circle for the fourth time, Harry leaned on his cane and straightened his back. It was rather sore from hunching over so much.

He took one final, cursory examination of the circle to ensure that _nothing_ was wrong with it. The thought of Zouken's reaction to him failing the summoning was less than pleasant.

With a quick jerk, Harry pulled the handle free from his cane and the emerald dagger attached to it. He shifted his weight onto his left leg, and with the knife he sliced an even cut across his palm before replacing the dagger in the cane.

The air in the room heated as Harry activated his circuits and began enriching his blood with prana.

He extended his hand, allowing blood to steadily drip onto the circle.

" _For the elements silver and iron. For the foundation, stone, and the archduke of contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. Close the gates of the cardinal directions."_

Each drip of blood caused the circle to pulse with prana. Harry felt the worms shift slightly in response to the circulation of prana.

" _Come forth from the Crown, and follow the forked road to the Kingdom._ "

Harry's veins bulged as the crest worms squirmed in agitation.

" _Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill._ "

With each repetition, Harry let loose another drop of blood.

" _Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it. Set._

He gritted his teeth as the worms let known their displeasure at him using so much prana in one go.

" _Heed my words._ "

The light from the circle was increasing in brightness, almost difficult to look at.

" _My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny._ "

At this point, the prana draw from the circle doubled. Harry started drawing the stored prana from the dagger to compensate.

" _If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me._ "

A particularly painful surge from the crest worms made Harry twitch, but he persevered.

" _I hereby swear..._ "

His circuits were burning now with the amount of prana he was producing through them. He thought he smelled smoke.

" _That I shall be all that is good in the world_ "

One of the worms took an agonizing bite out of something in his spine, and he lurched forward to his good knee to keep from falling.

" _That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world_ "

His breath was coming in short gasps from the pain, and the worms were racing around his body excruciatingly.

" _But let chaos cloud thine eyes_. _Thou who art trapped in a cage of madness._ "

A pounding headache was setting in, and Harry's vision was getting blurry in his right eye.

" _And let thine step be soft, and thine ways unseen. I shall be the one to hold thy chains"_

The worms were screeching in their own pain now, and Harry felt them start eating him from the inside in their desperation to escape the drain he was placing on them. His vision flashed white from the pain as they started ripping through various nerves. His muscles spasmed but he managed to choke out the final line.

" _You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding... Guardian of the Scales!"_

* * *

 _During one of his first magecraft lessons with Zouken, Harry finally worked up the nerve to ask._

 _"Grandfather," he sighed exasperatedly, "I must ask. Why, precisely, are you training me in such a manner?"_

 _Zouken looked down at Harry with an expression reserved for particularly slow children._

 _"Tsk tsk my boy. Questioning you elders?" he sneered._

 _Harry glared back, but held his tongue. His new 'grandfather' had any number of ways to express his displeasure that Harry was not excited to have another run in with._

 _"Please," he pleaded sycophantically, "I just want to make sense of my role to the Makiri family."_

 _"Oh very well," the old man smirked benevolently, "I suppose it is time you understand you role in events to come."_

 _Harry listened attentively as Zouken detailed the history of the Grail War, culminating with a description of the outcome of the recent Fourth Grail War. Slowly, the information clicked._

 _"You want me to become the Makiri Master in the next Grail War, don't you?" he deduced._

 _"Good," Zouken crowed mockingly, "you're learning. I knew I made a good decision plucking you from those ruins."_

 _With this confirmed, Harry began thinking of ways to use this for his and Sakura's advantage. With an artifact like the Holy Grail in play, there were any number of ways for him to get out from under Zouken's thumb. Root, he could even just refuse to participate or deliberately throw it._

 _It seemed as if his poker face wasn't quite good enough for Zouken, as the man idly noted that, "Should circumstances conspire to prevent you from participating, I shall be forced to consider other options. Options like dear sweet Sakura..."_

 _An unspoken bargain was struck that day. In exchange for Harry's willing cooperation and victory in the Grail War, he and Sakura would be free to go their own way following it so long as they continued the Makiri line._

 _Of course, Harry didn't trust Zouken as far as he could throw him. As such, he'd been thinking up... contingencies._

* * *

Dwelling in the Throne of Heroes were a great many spirits of famous legends, many of whom were heroes.

One such spirit felt the call of the Grail. Typically he ignored such things as he had no regrets in life that he felt would be solved by the Grail, until something stopped him. It was the realization that the summoning was being performed without a catalyst. It meant that the Root of the World had taken the measure of the summoner's existence and decided that _he_ was the heroic spirit needed for the summoner.

Out of curiosity, the spirit looked further into the connection. The summoner was a boy, on the cusp of manhood. The boy was a protector, crippling himself for the sake of a young girl that he had to take care of from their sadistic grandfather.

As he felt out his summoner, his mind drew links between the boy and his own children.

The ones he'd been forced to _slaughter_. At the hands of that _witch._

He'd fallen to madness for most of his remaining life. Only in death had the red haze departed and he could truly look back on his life.

One particular aspect of the summoning he noticed was that it had been modified to summon a Berserker. He chuckled, despite himself.

Yes, he decided. He personally had no wish for the Grail, but this boy needed, of all the heroic spirits of the Throne, Heracles.

* * *

Dwelling in the Throne of Heroes were a great many spirits of famous legends, many of whom were _not_ heroes.

One such spirit was drifting in a trance through the blackness. She was still puzzling out where she had failed in life. It was too many times, she decided. She failed to meet the maturity of her peers. She failed to serve Allah. She failed to become Hassan-i-Sabbah.

And the worst part, she dies and finds out that it was all for _nothing_. The closest thing out there to Allah was Alaya, which was naught but a disembodied _force_ that kept humanity from dying.

All that faith, all that pain, all that struggling.

For nothing.

Her mind broke and she wept. Her faith, the pillar of her existence, had _shattered_ like so much dust in the wind.

Typically, this sort of pain and madness would drive one to take their own life, but even that option was denied to her. Thanks to her association with the Hassan-i-Sabbah, she was considered part of the legend and thus imprisoned eternally in this Throne of Heroes.

So she wept. Until she felt a tendril of... something reach out for her. Almost certain that it was an illusion, she reached out for it, and felt _him._ It was a man: brave, determined, and powerful. His magnificence covered her like a soothing blanket. She wasn't sure how, but she knew that he was calling out to her—specifically _her_. He was calling _her_ , out of all people across the void of death, to serve him. A new target called for her devotion. A new Master.

What could she answer but yes? The Master called for Zealot, and she would answer.

* * *

The circle erupted in red fire, but Harry could scarcely see it through the black that was encroaching in on his vision. He collapsed to the floor as he felt _two_ consciousnesses link up to his.

Six inches from the floor, he was caught by a pair of enormous hands. An invisible presence knelt before him.

Harry lost his grip on consciousness.


End file.
